Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the line of
time I place my pen
Upon the page and form the
I felt but show 'til then
And to I beg the question
Why do I masquerade
As one to one and to
Someone If I, afraid
Of the consequence of stating
my cause might be,
When I rant and rhyme and
Do I write for or me?
I believe there is some
In for one's self
But why place the public
What is best on the shelf?
Though I write I do not feel that
What I pen is alone,
Even could be misguided
As are I have known
Who swore, poor souls, they possessed
The key to mysterious fate,
Succeeded in some,
But most could tell did but prate
On touching something vague
cannot be unproven, or,
In place of content, in tongues
Yet know not they're speaking for.
No, I am not so;
I do not feel I
Some divine, but still I know
That I never be content
To hold my tongue when I would
Or change my words to suit the
Or pinch a blush my cheek
To feign my joy at love sour.
I do not wish to
The faith that place in me
To the way to brighter days,
But dark is all I see.
I work for good, I for hope,
No one can my intent
But even those who listen
Can often mistake I meant.
My fear, come to realize,
Is mainly that I am wrong,
That my is askew,
That I write shyte and it song.
Perhaps I'll question thus,
Discount my merits, thoughts, and
well, long as I still go forth
And see this, my vision, leads.
Strong is she who knows her
And speaks it she may not please.
the audience
That such honest thoughts as these.