Luyện nghe bài hát The Priest They Called Him

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

People by, gray shadows on a distant wall
It was late and no money to score
He into a side street and the lake wind hit him like a knife
Cab just ahead under a streetlight

Boy got out a suitcase
Thin kid in prep school
Familiar face, the told himself
Watching 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 drove and turned the corner
The boy went inside a

"Hmm, yes, maybe," the was there 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
Made it, glanced down at the
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
see what's inside

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

The buyer sniffed
"Kind of a funny about it"
"It's Mexican leather"
"Well, some joker cure it"
The looked at the case with cold disfavor
"Not even sure he killed it, whatever it is
is the best I can do and it hurts
But since this is and you're the Priest"
He three bills under the table into the Priest's dirty hand
The Priest faded into the street shadows, seedy and
Three cents didn't buy a bag, less than a nickel
Say, remember that old Addie told me not to come back
Unless I him the three cents I owe him
Yeah, that a fruit for ya, blow your stack about three lousy cents
The doctor was not to see him

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

The added 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 quarter 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 cold and far walk to rooming
A shabby street, room on the top
"These stairs," the Priest
pulling himself up along the bannister
He went the bathroom
Yellow wall panels, toilet
And got his works under the washbasin
Wrapped in paper, back to his room
Get drop in the dropper

He up his sleeve
Then he heard a from next door
Room 18, the kid lived there
The Priest had him on the stairs
And saw the kid was
But he never spoke he didn't want any juvenile connections
Bad news in any

The Priest had had enough bad in his life
He heard the groan again, a he could feel
No mistaking groan and what it meant
"Maybe he had an or something.
In any case, I can't enjoy my priestly
that sound coming through the wall"
Thin you understand

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

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

The Priest see the cramps
Like of wood there in the young legs
Dark shiny black leg
"A few years ago I damaged in a bicycle race
It was that the cramps started"
And now he has the leg cramps
compound junk interest

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

The boy was sleeping the Priest left Room 18
He went back to his room and sat on the bed
Then it hit him like heavy silent
All the gray yesterdays
He sat there, received the fix
And he was himself a priest
There was no to call one