Luyện nghe bài hát Orphans of wealth

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

And the rain falls and through their window
And the snow falls and blows through their
And the seasons revolve mid their sounds of
the tides rise, they cover the floor

They come the north and they come from the south
And they come the hills and the valleys
And they're migrants and and miners and humans
Our census neglected to

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

And they're African, Mexican, Caucasian,
Hungry and Americans
The orphans of and of adequate health
by this nation they live in

And with weather worn hands on bread lines they
Yet but one more
And they're treated tramps while we sell them food stamps
This thriving and prosperous

And the rain falls and blows through their
And the snow falls and through their door
And the seasons mid their sounds of starvation
the tides rise, they cover the floor

And with and rickets and rats in the thickets
Infested, diseased and
With and no shoes and skin sores that ooze
By the poisonous pools, they are

In shacks of two rooms that are wood tombs
With corpses breathing them
And we pity their plight as 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 floods in the nursery
And a child is crying, he's hungry and

His life has been sold, his young looks old
the face of America, dying