Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the of self-indulgence
Every I place my pen
Upon the and form the words
I felt but show 'til then
And to I beg the question
Why do I thus
As one to one and to
else? If I, afraid
Of what the consequence of
Openly my might be,
I rant and rhyme and reason
Do I for them or me?
I there is some merit
In creating for self
But why place the public
What is best left on the
Though while I write I do not feel
I pen is mine alone,
Even this be misguided
As are many I known
Who swore, poor souls, they possessed
The key to mysterious fate,
in convincing some,
But most could tell they did but
On subjects 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 feel I
Some force divine, but I know
That I shall never be
To hold my tongue I would speak
Or my words to suit the hour
Or pinch a blush my cheek
To my joy at love gone sour.
I do not to disappoint
The faith that place in me
To the way to brighter days,
But dark is all I see.
I work for good, I for hope,
No one can question my
But those who listen close
Can often mistake I meant.
My fear, I've to realize,
Is this: that I am wrong,
my perception is askew,
That I shyte and call it song.
Perhaps always question thus,
Discount my merits, thoughts, and
'Tis well, as I still go forth
And see this, my vision, leads.
Strong is she who her mind
And it though she may not please.
the audience
That hears honest thoughts as these.