Luyện nghe bài hát The Door-to-Door Inspector

The door-to-door inspector, his bare and white,
is on your window
'cause he knows hiding here tonight
He's travelled from the city to country slum
under and black clouds
and the burnt-out sun

He'll you where you stand
the roof with his bare hands
and hand you down his demands
as you in your tiny corner

The door-to-door inspector now to eat his lunch
He scowls at last week's
in the worker's cafe,
You your choice whan mocking the ways of true grown men
Now may woman-love protect you
as you face this grevious punishment you've

He'll drop you you stand
journey home to wash those hands
and to his bed trembling go
Passion not spent, a man
(with his hand)