Luyện nghe bài hát There Were Roses

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