Luyện nghe bài hát Little People

(Mr J Medeiros)
Envision the of age
where the apparent
is that of a parrot commissioned to live in a
who hits the when decisions are made
to not listen and they got their fist in to fair play
be in your submission to rage
you became a the same way
the system gave way
inflicting the pain
your convicted and cant
recondition your brain till your convinced you can
understandably wishin family tradition wont land you in a
you feelin the rain
lonely without a home, cus now your grown
wearing a milestone like its the tie you own
when your alone
hoping that God forgives you, wondering if kids do
no one should have to through
the that you been through
the fight still within you
its time to make things right and free the 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 that wants to reach me
listen...mommy please...
there must be a better way to me
i'm till my ears can't hear me
a silence that kills me

(Stro)
there stands in twenty below gripping his coat
that two hours ago
dramatic i know, but cold ain't it, seven olds waiting
another look at a picture that lost time painted
we say put it away i can't at it
the truth stings a little when you at it
we're creating a mold of bad
when the teacher got eleven year olds blast at 'em
and the tunes 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 ever call you a friend
you worked hard to provide a home for living
and you figured, all that you really had to give 'em
now, if you don't know much know
all work, no play, far cry, miss

(Hook)

(Rez)
it was once said the
grass will weather and the flower will fall
and man will pass when his number gets called
but when a child takes his life type of logic don't work out a
a flower never chose to its own pedals out
and through out of the it gets so clear
that the son i dear i lost somewhere
between my work passion and a child size
to mask when these dreams keep flashing his
cold foot hanging from a steel table and
a white sheet with a mothers pain a grief
every day i wake to this feeling of pain
so i milk the scapegoat to this feeling of blame thinking
what kind of man am i? what of mother were you?
what of life did we subject our child to?
wishing i would have listened i would have probably clues
praying for that his soul could sure use

(Hook)