Luyện nghe bài hát Little People

(Mr J Medeiros)
Envision the of age
where the disposition
is of a parrot commissioned to live in a cage
who hits the parents when decisions are
to not listen and they got their fist in to fair play
be in your submission to rage
you a victim the same way
the system done way
inflicting the pain
convicted and cant blame
recondition your brain till your you can change
understandably wishin family tradition land you in a position
you feelin the rain
lonely without a home, cus now childs grown
wearing a milestone its the only tie you own
when your alone
hoping that God forgives you, wondering if your do
no one should have to live
the violence that you been
the fight that's within you
its time to make things and free the child that lives in you.

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

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

(Hook)

(Rez)
it was once that the
grass weather and the flower will fall down
and man will pass when his number gets called
but when a child takes his life that type of don't work out a
a flower chose to pluck its own pedals out
and through out of the tears it so clear
the son i held dear i lost somewhere
between my passion and a child size casket
to mask when these dreams keep flashing his
cold foot hanging a stainless steel table and
a white sheet stain with a mothers a grief
every day i wake to face this of pain
so i the scapegoat to easy this feeling of blame thinking
what kind of man am i? what kind of were you?
kind of life did we subject our child to?
wishing i would have listened i would have probably seen
praying for that his soul could sure use

(Hook)