Luyện nghe bài hát Light Pollution

John A. Hobson was a man
He used to me books and mic stands
He got me a subscription
To the Socialist

to records in his basement
Old songs about the government
love of money not the market
He said these push on you

And freedom yells, it cry
Whatever sells decide
But there's no hell you die
So don't look so

He got a life, lost his day job
papers, swinging pendulums
Anything to a function
Or to occupy time

You gotta earn this living
You're as dead without a bank account
But it's funny how he has felt down
In unemployment line

With all that at his feet
The pools of piss in the
All of that empathy
For the way feeling

worry
Don't
Don't

The shade
The flags they
The playing loud
The baseball was letting out

And all at
You saw the dust and
Every sound
Got in his truck and around

Drove out through the and the cops
Drove out that center mall
Drove out past sickening sprawl
Out that fenced in gold

And maybe he lost
with the radio
But I bet the seem so close
At the end

At the end
At the end
At the end
...