Luyện nghe bài hát Little People

(Mr J Medeiros)
Envision the of age
the apparent disposition
is of a parrot commissioned to live in a cage
who the parents when decisions are made
to not listen and they got their fist in opposition to play
must be in submission to rage
you became a the same way
the done gave way
inflicting the same
your and cant blame
your brain till your convinced you can change
understandably wishin tradition wont land you in a position
where you feelin the
without a home, cus now your childs grown
wearing a milestone like its the tie you own
crying when your
hoping that God forgives you, if your kids do
no one should have to through
the violence you been through
the fight that's within you
its time to things right and free the child that lives in you.

(Hook)
me...see me...
do you even know i'm still
i to the sounds of a TV.
the only that really wants to reach me
listen...mommy please...
there must be a better way to me
i'm yelling till my ears can't me
into a silence kills me

(Stro)
there stands in twenty below gripping his coat
that froze two ago
dramatic i know, but cold ain't it, seven year olds
takes another look at a that lost time painted
we say put it away i can't at it
the truth stings a little when you at it
creating a mold of bad habits
when the got eleven year olds that blast at 'em
and the world in just then
listening to every word daddy should heard at age ten
then daddy wonders it all began
he could call you a father, but couldn't ever call you a friend
you hard to provide a home for good living
and you figured, that's all that you really had to 'em
now, if you don't much know this
all work, no play, far cry, near

(Hook)

(Rez)
it was once that the
grass will weather and the flower will down
and every man will when his number gets called
but when a child takes his life that type of don't work out a
a flower never chose to pluck its own out
and out of the tears it gets so clear
that the son i held i lost somewhere
between my work passion and a child casket
hard to mask these dreams keep flashing his
foot hanging from a stainless steel table and
a white sheet with a mothers pain a grief
every day i wake to face this of pain
so i the scapegoat to easy this feeling of blame thinking
kind of man am i? what kind of mother were you?
what kind of life did we our child to?
wishing i would have listened i would probably seen clues
praying for salvation that his could sure use

(Hook)