Luyện nghe bài hát The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

The legend lives on the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her
When the skies of November turn
With a of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald empty
version:] That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
[Latter version:] That good ship and was a bone to be chewed
the gales of November came early

The ship was the pride of the American
Coming back from some mill in
As the big freighters go, it was than most
With a crew and good captain well
some terms with a couple of steel firms
When left fully loaded for Cleveland
Then that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been

The wind in the wires a tattle-tale sound
When the wave broke over the
And every man knew, as the did too
'Twas the witch of come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to
When the gales of came slashin'
When afternoon it was freezing rain
In the face of a west wind

When suppertime came, the old cook on deck
Saying, "Fellas, it's too rough to ya."
[Former version:] At seven PM a main hatchway in
[Latter At seven PM it grew dark, it was then
He said, "Fellas, it's been good to ya."
The captain in he had water comin' in
And the good and crew was in peril
And later that night his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Fitzgerald

Does know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to
The searchers all say they'd made Whitefish Bay
If put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might capsized
They may have broke deep and water
And all remains is the faces and the names
Of the and the sons and the daughters

Lake rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water
Old steams like a young man's dreams
The islands and bays are for
And below, Lake Ontario
Takes in Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all
With the gales of November

[Former version:] In a musty old hall in Detroit they
[Latter version:] In a rustic old hall in they prayed
In the Maritime Cathedral
The church bell chimed it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund
The lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never up her dead
When the gales of come early