Luyện nghe bài hát House Of Shame

There's nothing unusual about the way my day
As I up and down the streets with my mailpouch in my hands
I've run route for years everybody knows my name
Especially at the old folks home I call the House of Shame
The old home is my last stop that's where I end my daily rout
And my is usually empty by then not always but just about
for an accosional letter and they all wait anxiously
With sad eyes that the question is there anything for me
And I hear their trembling voices as they talk back and
I guess the children're too busy to write
got a lot of things to do of course
And I try to cheer 'em up and say to make 'em feel better
Then I to myself just how little effort it takes to write a letter
old and wrinkled faces and hair as white as snow
And locked up in their minds that only they could know
I spent hours there at the end of each day's run
Trying in some way to fill the place of a or a son
And I listen as tell me of their families of days gone by
And the sadness there at times is so I can't help but cry
And thought it's reality it more like a dream
That some of them grandchildren that they've never even seen
And I think it's just a that children they have raised
Would put 'em in this House of Shame to spend later days
So there they sit just waitin' for letters they never get
Waitin' for children that never come by waitin' just to die
You see my are old now too and we've put 'em in a home
But the difference is they live us and they'll never be alone