Luyện nghe bài hát The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald

The legend on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never up her dead
the skies of November turn gloomy

With a load of ore, twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald empty
That good ship and true was a to be chewed
When the gales of November came

The ship was the pride of the American
back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big go, it was bigger than most
a crew and good captain well-seasoned

Concluding some terms with a couple steel
When they left fully for Cleveland
And later that night the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made the tattle-tale
And the wave broke over the
And every man knew, as the did too
T'was the witch of come stealin'

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to
When the gales of November came
When afternoon came, it was rain
In the face of a hurricane wind

supper time came, the old cook came on deck sayin'
Fellas, it's too to feed ya
At 7 P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he
Fellas, it's been good to ya

The captain wired in he had comin' in
And the good ship and was in peril
And later night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund

Does any one where the love of God goes
When the waves the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen miles behind her

might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke and took water
And all that remains is the and the names
Of the wives and the and the daughters

Lake rolls, Superior sings
In the of her ice-water mansion
Old steams like a young man's dreams
The and bays are for sportsmen

And below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake can send her
And the boats go, as the mariners all know
With the of November remembered

In a musty old hall in Detroit they
In the Maritime Cathedral
The bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
For man on the Edmund Fitzgerald

The legend on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gumee'
Superior, they said, never up her dead
When the gales of November come