Luyện nghe bài hát Fear And Loathing In Mahwah, NJ

Why do you do the things done
And how would you have to be
To do again like I know you're going to?
If you're the poet you say you are and in everything you see
how can love exist in a world run by people like you?
Because when there's suffering, there
From trees, you hang them in the air
The world out in agony and you don't care
But should the hit the fan
I just you will not be spared
you

You a heart with so much room for love
And filled it hatred and rage
Until there was nothing left but for it to up and die
People tell you that if you don't love your neighbor
Then you love God
But no god of mine put light in such unrighteous eyes
Now the way we hold other so tight
Would more like a noose if held up to the light
Because we betray each other in dreams night
Now let's never speak of it again, all

Even now I the day, and yet, I think,
Few come within the of my curse,
Wherein I did not some ill:
As kill a man, or else his death;
a maid, or plot the way to do it;
Accuse innocent, and forswear myself;
Set deadly enmity two friends;
poor men's cattle break their necks;
Set fire on and hay-stacks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with tears,
Oft I digged up dead men from their graves,
And set them upright at dear friends' doors,
Even when their almost were forgot;
And on skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in letters,
Let not sorrow die, though I am dead.
Tut! I done a thousand dreadful things
As as one would kill a fly,
And grieves me heartily indeed
But I cannot do ten thousand more.

(Act V, i, lines 129-148 of Shakespear's Titus Andronicus)