Luyện nghe bài hát Little People

(Mr J Medeiros)
Envision the of age
the apparent disposition
is that of a parrot 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 victim the way
the system gave way
inflicting the same
your and cant blame
recondition your brain till convinced you can change
understandably family tradition wont land you in a position
where you feelin the
lonely without a home, cus now your grown
a milestone like its the only tie you own
crying your alone
hoping that God you, wondering if your kids do
no one should to live through
the that you been through
the fight still within you
its time to make things right and the child that lives in you.

(Hook)
me...see me...
do you even know i'm breathing
i to the sounds of a TV.
the only thing that really wants to me
listen...mommy please...
there must be a 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 gripping his
that two hours ago
dramatic i know, but cold ain't it, seven year waiting
another look at a picture that lost time painted
we say put it away i look at it
the truth stings a little when you at it
we're a mold of bad habits
the teacher got eleven year olds that blast at 'em
and the tunes in just then
listening to every word daddy should have at age ten
then wonders where it all began
he could you a father, but couldn't really ever call you a friend
you worked hard to provide a home for good
and you figured, all that you really had to give 'em
now, if you don't much know this
all work, no play, far cry, miss

(Hook)

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

(Hook)