Luyện nghe bài hát The Haves Have Naught

Just at that shopkeeper peddling his wares
Shouting his sales but nobody cares
Don't you wonder keeps him there day after day
for gold as his hair turns to gray?
Blindly they're a pace
Starving for in a merciless place
Only a fool would make from heathens
And find them so lively they're barely breathing, just barely breathing

look at that toymaker grinding his gears
Turning no profit, but he care
He keeps smiles on day after day
The keep sadness and suffering at bay
Blissfully a pace
Searching for mercy in a place
Only a monster makes from saints
And finds them so worthless when they're full of grace, so full of
But what better use of hookers and
Than greasing the wheels of perfect machines that hum life?
A of industry
But what is the use of cutting down
to smother, choke the soul of our town?
I there is another way
But is so wrong with giving them purpose?
(Just how could leave out, degrading them without doubt?)
A man like yourself could, worth to the worthless
(Bleeding them dry, maybe they'll die you and I?)
Without the guidance of rulers and
(And none of guidance, the hands of the tyrants)
These people will just tear apart.
Just look at that steeped in deceit
A to the young, to the old, and the meek
Don't you wonder made him so vicious, so sick?
So far out of balance, so cruel and so So married to malice?