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 from too much whiskey
And leaves me three faces to feed.

Millwork easy, millwork ain't hard.
Millwork, it ain't
But an awful, job.
I'm waiting for a
To take me through the
Put me in my break
Where I can have a 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 mind to wander
To the back on the farm.
I can see my father
And me on his arm.

I can hear my granddad's
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 been the fool
To let this
Use my for a tool.
As I ride home in the
I'm at my hands,
by my sorrow
That a young 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 rest of my . . . wasted.