Luyện nghe bài hát There Were Roses

A song for you this evening, and not to make you sad,
Or for adding to the sorrow of a Northern land.
But lately I've been thinking, and it just won't my mind.
I'll tell you now of two friends. They were both good friends of
mine.
Scott from Derry, he lived just across the fields.
A great man for the music and the and the reels.
MacDonald came from Armagh to court young Agnes fair.
It was we'd 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 when we heard the sound of drums,
We said "War won't us, we will always be as one.
For the our fathers plow in, the soil it is the same.
And the places we say our prayers have just got different
names."
We talked about our friends who'd died, we there'd be no more.
It was little then we the tragedy in store.
There were roses, roses, there roses.
And the of the people ran together.
It was on a Sunday when the awful news came around.
There'd been another killing outside of town.
We knew that Isaac danced up there, we knew he the band.
We that he was dead, and we just could not understand.
We gathered at his on a cold and rainy day.
The minister just closed his eyes, and for no he prayed.
And those of us who him from along the Ryan Road,
bowed our heads and said a prayer for the resting of his soul.
There were roses, roses, there roses.
And the of the people ran together.
Now fear it 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, young MacDonald that they've taken from the door.
"Isaac was my friend!" he cried, he begged them his fear.
But centuries of hatred ears that cannot hear.
"An eye for an eye" was all that their minds.
And eye for another eye, til everyone is blind.
were roses, roses, there 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 wars are fought between good friends.
And the men who give the orders, well, they're not the who die.
It's and MacDonald and the likes of you and I.
There roses, roses, there were roses.
And the tears of the ran together.