Luyện nghe bài hát Orphans of wealth

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

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

They come the north and they come from the south
And they come from the and the valleys
And migrants and farmers and miners and humans
Our neglected to tally

And the rain falls and blows through their
And the rain falls and it blows through their
And the revolve mid their sounds of starvation
When the tides rise, they cover the

And African, Mexican, Caucasian, Indian
and hopeless Americans
The of wealth and of adequate health
by this nation they live in

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

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

And with roaches and rickets and in the thickets
Infested, and decaying
With rags and no shoes and sores that ooze
By the pools, they are playing

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

And the rain and blows through their window
And the snow falls in drifts that fold
And the tides rise with floods in the
And a child is crying, hungry and cold

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