Luyện nghe bài hát Millworker

(James Taylor)

Now my was a sailor,
He blew in off the
My father was a
I, his daughter,
Took up with a no-good man from Massachusetts
Who dies from too whiskey
And leaves me these three faces to

Millwork ain't easy; mill-work ain't
Millwork, it ain't nothing but an boring job
I'm waiting for a day
To me through the morning
And put me in my coffee
I can have a sandwich and remember

Then me and my machine
For the of the morning
For the rest of the
And the of my life

Now my mind begins to
To the days on the farm
I can see my father at me,
on his arm
I can hear my stories
Of the storms out on Erie
Where and cargos and fortunes
And sailor's lives were

Yes, but it's my life has wasted,
And I have been the
To let this use my body for a tool.
I can ride in the evening,
Staring at my
Swearing by my sorrow a young girl
Ought to stand a better

So may I the mills
Just as long as I am
And never the man whose
Name is on the

It be me and my
For the of the morning
For the of the afternoon
And the rest of my