Luyện nghe bài hát Little People

(Mr J Medeiros)
Envision the of age
where the disposition
is that of a parrot to live in a cage
who hits the when decisions are made
to not listen and got their fist in opposition to fair play
must be in submission to rage
you became a the same way
the system done way
the same pain
your convicted and blame
recondition your brain your convinced you can change
understandably wishin family tradition land you in a position
where you the rain
without a home, cus now your childs grown
wearing a milestone like its the tie you own
crying your alone
hoping that God forgives you, wondering if your do
no one should to live through
the violence you been through
the fight that's still you
its time to make things right and free the child that in you.

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

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

(Hook)

(Rez)
it was said that the
grass will weather and the flower fall down
and every man will pass when his number gets
but when a child takes his life that of logic don't work out a
a flower chose to pluck its own pedals out
and through out of the tears it so clear
that the son i held i lost somewhere
between my work passion and a child size
hard to mask these dreams keep flashing his
cold foot 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 milk the scapegoat to easy this feeling of blame
what kind of man am i? what kind of mother were
what of life did we subject our child to?
wishing i would have listened i would have probably clues
praying for salvation that his soul could use

(Hook)