Luyện nghe bài hát The Haves Have Naught

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

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