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 troubled land.
But lately been thinking, and it just won't leave my mind.
I'll tell you now of two good friends. They were both good of
mine.
Isaac from Derry, he lived just across the fields.
A great man for the and the dancing and the reels.
MacDonald came from South Armagh to court Agnes fair.
It was then we'd meet on Ryan Road, and filled the air.
Now, Isaac, he was Protestant and was Catholic born.
But it never made a difference, for friendship it was strong.
And sometimes in the evening we heard the sound 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 talked about our friends died, we hoped there'd be no more.
It was then we realized the tragedy in store.
There 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 that Isaac danced up there, we knew he liked the band.
We heard that he was dead, and we just not understand.
We at his graveside on a cold and rainy day.
The minister closed his eyes, and for no revenge he prayed.
And those of us who knew him along the Ryan Road,
Just bowed our heads and said a prayer for the of his soul.
There were roses, roses, were roses.
And the of the people ran together.
Now fear it filled the countryside, and fear filled home.
And late one night, a car came prowling round the Road.
A Catholic would be tonight to even up the score.
Oh Christ, it's young MacDonald that taken from the door.
"Isaac was my friend!" he cried, he them with his fear.
But centuries of have ears that cannot hear.
"An eye for an eye" was all that their minds.
And another eye for eye, til everyone is blind.
were roses, roses, there were roses.
And the tears of the ran together.
Now I know 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 Scott and MacDonald and the of you and I.
were roses, roses, there were roses.
And the of the people ran together.