Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad of John Henry Faulk

I'll tell you the story of henry faulk.
I'll tell you of his trials and the trail he walked,
And tell of the tyrants, the ones you never see:
Murder is the they play and hatred is their fee.

On the tv and the radio john henry was known.
He talked to many thousands with a that was his own,
But he could not close his eyes when the lists passed around,
So he tried to move the union to the blacklist down.

His friends they to warn him he was headin' for a fall.
If he against the blacklist he had no chance at all,
But he laughed away their warnings and he laughed their fears:
For how lies destroy the work of many honest years?

slowly, oh so slowly, his life began to change.
People would avoid his eyes, his friends actin' strange,
And he finally saw the power of the hidden pen
When told him that his job was through, he'd never work again.

And he could not believe his sad eyes had found.
He stared in disbelief as his came tumblin' down,
And as the noose grew tighter, at last the was clear:
For every he turned to go, that list would soon be there
-- oh, list.

And is there any bottom to the that grow inside?
Is there any to the hate that you must hide?
And is any end to your long road of despair?
Is there any end to the pain you must bear?

His wife and children trembled, the was runnin' short,
When a man of law got on their and took them into court,
And there upon the stand could not hide behind their eyes,
And the cancer of the fascist was before our eyes.

Hey, you blacklist, you blacklist, I've what you have done.
I've seen the men you've ruined and the lives you've to run,
But the one that I've found is, the only ones you spare
Are those that do not have a brain, or that do not care.

And you men who point your fingers and spread your around,
You men who left your souls and drag us to the ground,
You can put my right down there, I will not try to hide --
For if there's one man on the blacklist, be right there by his side.

For I'd rather go hungry to beg the streets
Than earn my bread on dead men's souls and crawl your feet.
And I will not play your hater's game and you in return,
For it's only the love of man the blacklist can be burned.