Luyện nghe bài hát Wee Dark Engine Room

WEE ENGINE ROOM
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In that wee dark room,
Where the chill seeps through soul,
How we huddled round wee pot stove
burned oily rags and coal.
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How the winter blizzards blow, and the whaling at rest,
Tucked in harbor's sheltered bay, safely anchored ten abreast.
The at their stations, as from she'd to she'd they go,
Carry little bags of coal them, and a little iron stove.

The Paddy worked with me on the engine stiff and cold.
A stranger to the was he - there's not a lie he hasn't told.
And he of his gold mine, and of all the hearts he'd won,
And his bonny sense of humor just like a ray of sun.

Then one day we saw the sun and ships' return.
Meet your old friends, a song; hope the season won't be long,
Then homeward bound when over; we'll leave this icy hold,
But I always will that little iron stove.


Words and music by Eric
Recorded by Ed Trickett on "The Ways of Man," copyright 1978.
"Many are sung about whaling and whalers. Almost all describe
A voyage, or the catch of the whale, or of the men and their
Needs. This song, written by Eric Bogle, describes the
existance of the men who stayed with the ships when they
Were laid up for the winter, doing routine and engine
Overhaul in the clammy, holds of the engine rooms." -ET
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