Luyện nghe bài hát It's Christmas Day

Day One
Nuala,
Thank you very much for your lovely present of a partridge in a
We're getting the hang of feeding the now,
Although it was at first to win its confidence
It bit the rather badly on the hand
But they're good friends now and keeping the pear-tree indoors in a bucket
Thank you
affectionately, Gobnait O'Lúnasa

Day Two
Nuala,
I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from you so soon again and to receive lovely present of two turtle doves
You are too kind
At the partridge was very jealous
And suspicious of the doves and they had a terrible row the night the doves
We had to send for the vet but the are okay again
And the stitches are due to out in a week or two
The bill was 8 but the mother is over her annoyance now
And the doves and the partridge are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I Yours ever, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
We must be foremost in your
I had only my letter when the three French hens arrived
There was another sort-out between the and the doves,
Who with the partridge, and the vet had to be sent for again
The mother was because the bill was 16 this time
But she has almost down
However, the fact that the birds' droppings keep falling
On her hair whilen she's watching the telly, help matters
Thanking you for kindness
I remain, Gobnait

Day
Nuala,
You mustn't have received my letter when you were sending us the four calling birds There was pandemonium in the pear-tree again last night and the vet's bill was 32
The mother is on sedation as I
I know you meant no harm and remain your friend

Day
Nuala,
Your generosity knows no
Five gold rings! When the parcel arrived I was scared stiff that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is
However, I want to seem ungrateful for the beautiful rings
affectionate friend, Gobnait

Day Six
Nuala,
What are you trying to do to us? It isn't that we don't appreciate your
But the six have not alone nearly murdered the calling birds
But they laid eggs on top of the vet's head
From the pear-tree and his was 68 in cash!
My mother is munching 60 grains of a day
And to herself in a most alarming way
You must your feelings for me in check

Day
Nuala,
We are not amused by your joke
Seven swans-a-swimming is a most romantic but not in the bath of a private house
We cannot use the bathroom now they've gone completely savage
And the door every time we try to enter
If things go on this way, the mother and I will as bad as the living-room carpet Please lay off It is not fair

Day
Nuala,
Who the hell do you think you the right to send eight,
maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and home?
Their are all over the front lawn
And have trampled the hell out of the rose-beds
The swans invaded the living-room in a attack
And the ensuing battle between and the calling birds,
Turtle doves, French hens and partridge the battle
Of the Somme seem like Wanderly
The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as as the sixty grains of Valium
I'm very annoyed you

Day
you looser!
There's enough pandemonium in this place night and day without nine drummers drumming, while the eight flaming maids-a-milking are beating my poor, old alcoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobbling everything in
I'm warning you, you're an enemy of me

Day Ten
manure-face,
I hope be haunted by the strains of ten pipers piping
Which you to torment us last night
They aided in their evil work by those maniac drummers
And it wasn't a pleasant to look out the window
And see eight hefty maids-a-milking pogo-ing around the ensuing punk-rock uproar
My mother has just finished her third of whiskey,
On top of a hundred and four grains of Valium
get yours!
Gobnait

Day
You scandalized my mother, you dirty Jezebel,
It was bad enough to eight maids-a-milking dancing to punk music on the front lawn but they've now been joined by your friends the eleven Lords-a-leaping
And the antics of the whole lot of them would
The most decadent days of the Roman looking like Outlook
I'll get you yet, you bag!

Day
Listen head,
You ruined our lives
The twelve maidens dancing turned up night
And the living daylights out of the eight maids-a-milking,
they found them carrying on with the eleven Lords-a-leaping
Meanwhile, the got out of the living-room,
Where they'd hiding since the big battle,
And savaged hell out of the Lords and all the
There were eight ambulances here last night, and the Civil Defence as well
The is in a home for the bewildered
And I'm sitting here, up to my in birds' droppings, empty whiskey
And Valium bottles, blood and feathers,
While the flaming cows eat the leaves off the
I'm a man.