Luyện nghe bài hát Song Of The Times

You working men of England, one moment now
While I unfold the treatment of the poor upon this
For the factory lords have brought the labor low
And daily are contriving plans to prove our

So arouse you sons of freedom, the world seems down
They scorn the man as a thief in country and in town

different parts in Ireland, it's true what I do state
There's hundreds that are starving for they can't get to eat
And if they go unto the to ask them for relief
They bang their all in their face as if they were a thief

So arouse you sons of freedom the world upside down
They scorn the poor man as a in country and in town

Alas how altered are the times, rich men the poor
And pay them off without remorse quite at their door
And if a man is out of work, his Parish pay is
Enough to starve himself and wife, his and all

So arouse you sons of the world seems upside down
They scorn the poor man as a in country and in town

So to and finish these few verses I have made
I hope to see it's long men for their labor paid
Then we'll rejoice with heart and voice and all our woes
Before we do old England must pay us what she

So arouse you sons of freedom the world seems upside
They scorn the poor man as a thief in and in town