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 are made
to not listen and got their fist in opposition to fair play
be in your submission to rage
you a victim the same way
the system done way
inflicting the pain
your convicted and blame
recondition your till your convinced you can change
understandably wishin family tradition wont land you in a
you feelin the rain
lonely a home, cus now your childs grown
wearing a like its the only tie you own
when your alone
hoping that God forgives you, if your kids do
no one should have to live
the violence 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 still
i to the sounds 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 till my can't hear me
into a silence kills me

(Stro)
there stands in twenty below gripping his coat
froze two hours ago
dramatic i know, but cold ain't it, seven olds waiting
takes another look at a picture that lost time
we say put it away i look at it
the truth a little when you look at it
we're creating a of bad habits
when the got eleven year olds that blast at 'em
and the world in just then
listening to every daddy should have heard at age ten
then wonders where it all began
he call you a father, but couldn't really ever call you a friend
you worked hard to provide a home for 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 said the
grass weather and the flower will fall down
and every man will when his number gets called
but a child takes his life that type of logic don't work out a
a flower never 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 work passion and a size casket
hard to mask these dreams keep flashing his
cold foot hanging from a stainless 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
what kind of man am i? what of mother were you?
what kind of did we subject our child to?
i would have listened i would have probably seen clues
praying for salvation that his could sure use

(Hook)