Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the of self-indulgence
time I place my pen
Upon the page and the words
I but couldn't show 'til then
And to I beg the question
Why do I thus
As one to one and to
Someone else? If I,
Of what the of stating
Openly my might be,
I rant and rhyme and reason
Do I write for or me?
I believe there is some
In for one's self
But why place before the
What is best left on the
Though I write I do not feel that
What I pen is alone,
Even this could be
As are I have known
Who swore, poor souls, that possessed
The key to man's fate,
in convincing some,
But most could tell did but prate
On touching something vague
Which be unproven, or,
In place of content, in tongues
Yet know not whom they're for.
No, I am not so;
I do not I represent
Some force divine, but still I
I shall never be content
To hold my when I would speak
Or change my words to suit the
Or pinch a upon my cheek
To feign my joy at love sour.
I do not wish to
The faith that place in me
To the way to brighter days,
But sometimes is all I see.
I for good, I toil for hope,
No one can question my
But even those who close
Can mistake what I meant.
My fear, I've to realize,
Is mainly that I am wrong,
That my is askew,
That I shyte and call it song.
Perhaps I'll 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 speaks it she may not please.
the audience
That hears such thoughts as these.