Luyện nghe bài hát What We Worked For

I lost the to write a song,
so i found three simple chords and I held them together with my weak on an out-of-tune guitar my father gave to me.
May Elvis turn in his grave and Les Paul curse my dirty calloused fingers. May the likes of this song make one fucking dollar,
leave it for a demo tape to be played until it's
then remembered for what it was...
that we 'em hell(repeated).

To my friends and who could have been anything,
and heroes who found survival in cause and effect.
Behind counters, behind windows, striving to be people
with ideals of justice.
Do we only to keep working because it pays rent?
Sleeping plastic stars glued to a ceiling,
muscles burning and nicotine every morning...
but we them hell(repeated).

There's a beyond skyscrapers, there's a distance beyond the freeway.
than pictures in a magazine, more than tragedy in a rock and roll song.
It's more than the you know it's safe to make,
It's more than money could buy.
Are we to work and die in american cities,
working to live and die in american cities, and for what we worked.