Luyện nghe bài hát Milworker

Now my was a sailor.
He in off the water.
My was a farmer
And I his daughter.

Took up a no good
man from massachusetts
Who died from too whiskey
And leaves me these three to feed.

Millwork easy, millwork ain't hard.
Millwork, it ain't
But an awful, job.
I'm waiting for a
To me through the mornin';
Put me in my break
Where I can a sandwhich and remember.

And it's me and my
For the of the mornin',
For the of the afternoon,
For the of my life.

Now my begins to wander
To the days on the farm.
I can see my smilin'
And me on his arm.

I can hear my stories
Of the out on lake erie,
Where and cargos
And fortunes and sailor's were lost.

Yeah, but it's, my has been wasted.
And I have the fool
To let this
Use my for a tool.
As I ride home in the
I'm at my hands,
Swearin' by my
That a girl ought to stand a better chance.

Oh, but may I work the
as long as I'm able,
And meet the man
name is on the label.

Whoa, it's me and my
For the of the mornin',
For the of the afternoon,
For the of my life . . . wasted.