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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Over
In the
the Hustler
His are old
He has seen a million scenes
Places where men droop mould
The
Where goods are sold
Seen with opened eyes since fifteen
He has found it at first
But on his brow there a curse
For when the must suffer
At the of men

of Christmas past
Were never there to ever
Things as can never
Be

Over
By the
the Hustler
He's not very
He's trampled by the by the sly

seen the darker side of men
First and then
He found his to laugh
An to cry

He'll find close
No at all
He so lonely, tired and small
How few are from
The golden

There's something in us all it
To crave
Hunt for
But corruption the seducer spoils our
And surely as the snow melt
The
Grabs his soul and heads for
lessons learnt under his belt

Over
By the
Stands the
the men of law
On either side to flank the sallow
But some of us will never
It the blow of fists to burn
How we suffer for the truth