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 I've been thinking, and it 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 across the fields.
A man for the music and the dancing and the reels.
MacDonald came from South Armagh to court young 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 a difference, for their friendship it was strong.
And sometimes in the evening we heard the sound of drums,
We said "War won't divide us, we always 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 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, 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 of Caplan town.
We knew that Isaac up there, we knew he liked the band.
We heard he was dead, and we just could not understand.
We gathered at his graveside on a cold and day.
The minister just closed his eyes, and for no he prayed.
And of us who knew him from along the Ryan Road,
Just our heads and said a prayer for the resting of his soul.
There were roses, roses, were 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 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 begged with his fear.
But centuries of hatred have that cannot hear.
"An eye for an eye" was all that their minds.
And another eye for eye, til everyone is blind.
There roses, roses, there were roses.
And the tears of the ran together.
Now I don't know where the moral is, or how this song end.
But I wonder just how many wars are between good friends.
And the men who give the orders, well, not the ones who die.
Scott and MacDonald and the likes of you and I.
There roses, roses, there were roses.
And the of the people ran together.