Luyện nghe bài hát Little People

(Mr J Medeiros)
Envision the of age
the apparent disposition
is that of a commissioned to live in a cage
who hits the parents decisions are made
to not listen and they got their fist in opposition to fair
be in your submission to rage
you a victim the same way
the system done way
inflicting the pain
your and cant blame
recondition your brain till your convinced you can
wishin family tradition wont land you in a position
where you the rain
lonely without a home, cus now your childs
wearing a milestone its the only tie you own
crying when alone
that God forgives you, wondering if your kids do
no one should have to live
the violence that you been
the fight still within you
its to make things right and free 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 thing that really wants to reach me
listen...mommy please...
there must be a way to raise me
i'm yelling till my ears can't me
into a that kills me

(Stro)
there billy stands in twenty below gripping his
froze two hours ago
dramatic i know, but cold ain't it, seven year olds
takes another look at a picture that lost painted
we say put it i can't look at it
the truth stings a when you look at it
we're 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 wonders where it all
he could call you a father, but couldn't really ever call you a
you hard to provide a home for good living
and you figured, that's all 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 every man will pass his number gets called
but a child takes his life that type of logic don't work out a
a flower never chose to its own pedals out
and out of the tears it gets so clear
that the son i 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 steel table and
a sheet stain with a mothers pain a grief
day i wake to face this feeling of pain
so i the scapegoat to easy this feeling of blame thinking
what kind of man am i? what kind of were you?
what kind of life did we subject our to?
wishing i would have listened i would probably seen clues
for salvation that his soul could sure use

(Hook)