Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the line of
Every time I my pen
Upon the page and the words
I felt but couldn't 'til then
And to myself I beg the
Why do I masquerade
As one to one and to
Someone else? If I,
Of what the of stating
Openly my might be,
When I and rhyme and reason
Do I write for or me?
I believe there is some
In creating for self
But why place the public
What is left on the shelf?
Though while I write I do not that
I pen is mine alone,
Even this could be
As are I have known
Who swore, poor souls, they possessed
The key to mysterious fate,
in convincing some,
But most could tell they did but
On subjects touching vague
cannot be unproven, or,
In place of content, speak in
Yet not whom they're speaking for.
No, I am not so;
I do not I represent
Some divine, but still I know
That I shall never be
To my tongue when I would speak
Or change my to suit the hour
Or a blush upon my cheek
To feign my joy at love sour.
I do not wish to
The faith that others in me
To lead the way to days,
But sometimes is all I see.
I work for good, I for hope,
No one can question my
But even those who listen
Can often mistake I meant.
My fear, I've to realize,
Is mainly that I am wrong,
That my is askew,
I write shyte and call it song.
Perhaps I'll question thus,
my merits, thoughts, and deeds
'Tis well, long as I go forth
And see this, my vision, leads.
is she who knows her mind
And speaks it she may not please.
Fortunate the
That hears such honest as these.