Luyện nghe bài hát There Were Roses

A song for you evening, and it's not to make you sad,
Or for adding to the of a troubled Northern land.
But lately been thinking, and it just won't leave my mind.
I'll tell you now of two good friends. They were good friends of
mine.
Scott from Derry, he lived just across the fields.
A great man for the and the dancing and the reels.
MacDonald came from Armagh to court young Agnes fair.
It was then meet on Ryan Road, and laughter filled the air.
Now, Isaac, he was Protestant and Sean was born.
But it never made a difference, for their it was strong.
And sometimes in the evening when we heard the of drums,
We said "War divide us, we will always be as one.
For the land our fathers in, the soil it is the same.
And the places where we say our have just got different
names."
We about our friends who'd died, we hoped there'd be no more.
It was little we realized the tragedy in store.
There were roses, roses, were roses.
And the of the people ran together.
It was on a Sunday morning when the news came around.
There'd been killing outside of Caplan town.
We knew that Isaac danced up there, we he liked the band.
We heard that he was dead, and we could not understand.
We gathered at his on a cold and rainy day.
The minister just his eyes, and for no revenge he prayed.
And those of us who him from along the Ryan Road,
Just bowed our heads and a prayer for the resting of his soul.
There were roses, roses, there roses.
And the tears of the ran together.
Now it filled the countryside, and fear filled every home.
And late one night, a car came prowling the Ryan Road.
A Catholic would be killed to even up the score.
Oh Christ, it's young that they've taken from the door.
"Isaac was my friend!" he cried, he them with his fear.
But centuries of hatred have that cannot hear.
"An eye for an eye" was all that their minds.
And eye for another eye, til everyone is blind.
There were roses, roses, were roses.
And the tears of the ran together.
Now I don't where the moral is, or how this song should end.
But I wonder just how many are fought between good friends.
And the men who give the orders, well, they're not the who die.
It's Scott and MacDonald and the of you and I.
There were roses, roses, were roses.
And the tears of the ran together.