Luyện nghe bài hát Orphans of wealth

There is no time to discuss or
What is right, what is wrong for our
Time has run out for all those who
With bent limbs and that are feeble

And the rain and blows through their window
And the falls and blows through their door
And the seasons revolve mid sounds of starvation
When the rise, they cover the floor

They come from the north and they come from the
And they from the hills and the valleys
And they're and farmers and miners and humans
Our neglected to tally

And the rain and blows through their window
And the rain and it blows through their door
And the seasons mid their sounds of starvation
When the tides rise, they cover the

And they're African, Mexican, Caucasian,
Hungry and hopeless
The orphans of wealth and of health
Disowned by nation they live in

And with weather worn on bread lines they stand
Yet but one degradation
And they're treated like tramps while we sell them stamps
This and prosperous nation

And the rain falls and blows their window
And the falls and blows through their door
And the seasons revolve mid their of starvation
When the rise, they cover the floor

And with roaches and and rats in the thickets
Infested, and decaying
With rags and no shoes and skin that ooze
By the poisonous pools, they are

In shacks of two rooms that are rotting wood
With corpses breathing inside
And we pity plight as they call in the night
And we do all that we can do to hide

And the rain falls and blows through their
And the falls in white drifts that fold
And the tides rise with in the nursery
And a child is crying, he's and cold

His has been sold, his young face looks old
It's the face of America,