Luyện nghe bài hát The Priest They Called Him

"Fight tuberculosis, folks"
Christmas Eve, an old junkie selling seals
On Park Street
The "Priest" they him
"Fight tuberculosis, folks"

People hurried by, gray on a distant wall
It was getting late and no to score
He turned into a side street and the lake wind hit him a knife
Cab stop ahead under a streetlight

Boy got out with a
Thin kid in school clothes
Familiar face, the Priest told
from the doorway.

"Reminds me of something a time ago"
The boy, there, his overcoat
Unbuttoned, reaching into his pocket for the cab fare
The cab away and turned the corner
The boy inside a building

"Hmm, yes, maybe," the suitcase was in the doorway
The boy in sight
Gone to get the keys, likely, have to move fast
He picked up the and started for the corner
it, glanced down at the case
It didn't look like the the boy had or any boy would have
The Priest put his finger on what was so old about the case
Old and dirty, poor quality and heavy
Better see what's

He turned into Lincoln
an empty place and opened the case
Two severed human that belonged to a young man
dark skin, shiny black leg hairs
Glittered in the dim
The legs had been into the case
And he had to use his knee on the of the case to shove them out
"Legs, yet," he said and walked quickly away the case.
Might a few dollars to score

The buyer suspiciously
"Kind of a funny about it"
"It's Mexican leather"
"Well, some joker didn't it"
The buyer looked at the case cold disfavor
"Not even sure he killed it, whatever it is
Three is the best I can do and it
But since this is Christmas and the Priest"
He slipped three bills under the table into the Priest's hand
The Priest faded into the street shadows, seedy and
Three cents didn't buy a bag, nothing less a nickel
Say, remember that old Addie croaker me not to come back
Unless I him the three cents I owe him
Yeah, isn't that a fruit for ya, blow your about three lousy cents
The doctor was not to see him

"Now, what do you I told you!"
The Priest laid three on the table
The put the money in his pocket and started to scream
"I've had trouble! People been around!
I may my license!"
The just sat there
Eyes, old and heavy with years of junk, on the doctor's
"I can't you a prescription"
The doctor jerked a drawer
And an ampule across the table
"That's all I have in the office!" The doctor up
"Take it and get out!" he screamed,
The Priest's expression did not

The doctor in quieter tones
"After all, I'm a man
And I be bothered by people like you"
"Is that all you have for me? One lousy G?
you lend me a nickel?"
"Get out, get out, I'll the police I tell you"
"All right, doctor, I'm going"

Of course it was and far walk to rooming house
A shabby street, room on the top
"These stairs," coughed the
There pulling himself up the bannister
He went into the
Yellow wall panels, dripping
And got his works from under the
in brown paper, back to his room
Get every drop in the

He rolled up his
Then he heard a groan next door
Room 18, the Mexican kid there
The Priest had him on the stairs
And saw the kid was
But he never spoke because he didn't want any connections
Bad in any language

The Priest had had enough bad in his life
He heard the again, a groan he could feel
No that groan and what it meant
"Maybe he had an or something.
In any case, I enjoy my priestly medications
With that coming through the wall"
Thin you understand

The Priest put his dropper
hall and knocked on the door of Room 18
"Quien es?"
"It's the Priest, kid, I live door"
He could hear someone hobbling the floor

A bolt slid, the boy stood in his underwear shorts
Eyes black with pain, he started to
The helped him over to the bed
"What's wrong, son?"
"It's my legs, seor,
And now I am medicine"

The Priest could see the
Like knots of wood there in the young
Dark shiny leg hairs
"A few ago I damaged myself in a bicycle race
It was then the cramps started"
And now he has the leg back
With junk interest

The old Priest there, feeling the boy groan
He his head as if in prayer, went back and got his dropper
"It's just a G, kid"
"I do not much, seor"

The boy was when the Priest left Room 18
He went to his room and sat down on the bed
Then it hit him like heavy snow
All the gray junk
He sat there, received the fix
And since he was himself a
There was no need to one