Luyện nghe bài hát What We Worked For

I the confidence to write a song,
so i found three simple chords and I held them together with my weak voice on an guitar my father gave to me.
May Elvis turn in his grave and Les curse my dirty calloused fingers. May the likes of this song never make one fucking dollar,
it for a demo tape to be played until it's broken
then remembered for what it was...
we gave 'em hell(repeated).

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

There's a height beyond skyscrapers, there's a beyond the freeway.
More than pictures in a magazine, more tragedy in a rock and roll song.
It's more than the actions you know safe to make,
It's more money could ever buy.
Are we living to and die in american cities,
to live and die in american cities, and dying for what we worked.