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 what keeps him day after day
Begging for gold as his hair turns to
Blindly they're bounding a
for mercy in a merciless place
Only a fool would make from heathens
And find them so lively when they're breathing, just barely breathing

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