Luyện nghe bài hát A Routine Day

It started off a day
I got through the morning in the way
I the bus on time
Good morning, Mr. Driver,
As I sat inside my I clutched my cane
And pressed my nose against the foggy pane
Ho hum
The life I lead would even make a dead man
Midday
I break for
With my sandwich and a I go on a hunch
To the park where I hope to
A little bit of of mind
As I sat there on a bench amidst the race
I felt a strange sensation that without a appeared
But as quickly disappeared again

So tell me what's the bloody point of playing the
With so to lose yet so little to gain
You sell your life
Can't you see you're a cog working like a dog
You trade future for a dead-end job
That's of routine days
Routine

I the clock to the end of the day
The paycheck in my pocket makes me feel
But was it the grind
Just to from falling behind
I here in the queue behind a foul cigar
My face discreetly buried in a book on

And I'm waiting on the 'til Charon comes