Luyện nghe bài hát On Artistic Integrity

I toe the of self-indulgence
Every time I my pen
the page and form the words
I but couldn't show 'til then
And to I beg the question
Why do I masquerade
As one to one and to
else? If I, afraid
Of what the of stating
Openly my cause be,
When I and rhyme and reason
Do I write for or me?
I believe is some merit
In creating for one's
But why place the public
What is best left on the
Though while I write I do not feel
What I pen is alone,
Even this be misguided
As are I have known
Who swore, souls, that they possessed
The key to mysterious fate,
Succeeded in some,
But most could tell they did but
On subjects touching something
cannot be unproven, or,
In of content, speak in tongues
Yet know not whom they're for.
No, I am not so;
I do not feel I
force divine, but still I know
That I shall never be
To hold my tongue I would speak
Or change my to suit the hour
Or pinch a blush upon my
To feign my joy at love sour.
I do not wish to
The faith others place 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 those who listen close
Can often what I meant.
My fear, I've to realize,
Is this: that I am wrong,
That my is askew,
That I write shyte and it song.
I'll always question thus,
Discount my merits, thoughts, and
'Tis well, long as I go forth
And see this, my vision, leads.
Strong is she who knows her
And speaks it she may not please.
the audience
That hears such honest as these.