Luyện nghe bài hát The Hand That Feeds

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

I've good men spoil,
Chained to jobs like hounds
They work and sleep and work
In their darkest nights, howl
Their cries are a
To everyone
No man stand to work all of his days
And have at the end of them.

I've got no but the change
That in my pockets,
me how little I have.
And as for time, I am
Powerless to it.
It rambling on
a mad, wandering man.

My was a howlin' man
in his youth
Sold his and all of his days
To the Great American
My dear gave me
in regret.
He all that he'd done
Would be for
If I in his steps.

I've got no but the change
jangles in my pockets,
Reminding me how I have.
And as for time, I am
Powerless to it.
It keeps on
a mad, wandering man.

My papa me how to howl,
How to bear my and growl.
He taught me that the hand feeds
to be bitten when it beats.

He taught me how to my chains,
And that ain't worth a thing,
And that no man should get more of my time me
me

I may never be a man,
But I can
Make that I'm free.
I may never be a man,
But the man
Will never have me, never me.

I may be a rich man,
But I can
sure that I'm free.
I may never be a man,
But the man
Will have me, never have me.

I've got no money but the
jangles in my pockets,
Reminding me how I have.
And as for time,
As for
mine
It's