Luyện nghe bài hát Praying For Time

These are the days of the hand
They not be the last
around now
These are the of the beggars and the choosers

This is the of the hungry man
Whose place is in the
in hand
With and legitimate excuses

The rich themselves poor
And of us are not sure
If we have too much but we'll our chances
'Cause stopped keeping score

I guess along the way
He must let us all out to play
Turned his back and all children
Crept out the door

And it's hard to
so much to hate
Hanging on to
When is no hope to speak of

And the wounded skies
Say it's much too
Well maybe we should all be praying for

This is the of the empty hand
Oh you on to what you can
And charity is a coat you wear a year

are the days of the guilty man
Your television a stand
And you find that what was over there is here

So you scream from behind your
And say what's is mine and not yours
I may have too but I'll take my chances
'Cause God's stopped score

And you to the things they sold you
Did you cover your eyes they told you
That he can't back?
'Cause he has no children to come for

And it's hard to
there's so much to hate
Hanging on to
When there is no to speak of

And the skies above
Say it's much, too late
Well we should all be praying for time