Luyện nghe bài hát House Of Shame

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