Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the line of
Every time I my pen
Upon the page and the words
I felt but show 'til then
And to myself I beg the
Why do I thus
As one to one and to
else? If I, afraid
Of what the consequence of
Openly my cause be,
When I rant and and reason
Do I for them or me?
I believe is some merit
In for one's self
But why place the public
What is best left on the
Though while I write I do not feel
What I pen is alone,
Even this could be
As are I have known
Who swore, poor souls, that they
The key to man's fate,
Succeeded in some,
But most tell they did but prate
On subjects something vague
Which be unproven, or,
In place of content, speak in
Yet know not whom they're for.
No, I am not so;
I do not feel I
Some force divine, but I know
I shall never be content
To my tongue when I would speak
Or change my words to the hour
Or a blush upon my cheek
To feign my joy at love sour.
I do not wish to
The faith others place in me
To lead the way to days,
But sometimes is all I see.
I work for good, I for hope,
No one can my intent
But even those who listen
Can mistake what I meant.
My fear, come to realize,
Is this: that I am wrong,
my perception is askew,
That I write shyte and it song.
I'll always question thus,
Discount my merits, thoughts, and
'Tis well, as I still go forth
And see this, my vision, leads.
is she who knows her mind
And it though she may not please.
the audience
That hears such thoughts as these.