Luyện nghe bài hát Not Another Day

She the bus at 5:06
That's in the AM for all you trust-fund kids.
And a 45 minute trip
If she in by 6, she'll catch another pink-slip.
And 3, and that means FIRED,
A thermice in the purse to help her keep wired.
The where she drops the baby off,
thank God it's on the same as the bus-stop.

By 5:30, halfway there,
And the back's already hurtin' from the plastic chair.
"Live to work, to live, to work, to live."
She's gotta feed the kid and give it all got to give.
Plus she's tryin'a a little overtime,
If she 'til 4 she could be home by 5.
Shuts her for the rest of the route,
And keeps the head-phones loud to drown out
But the same old

(Chorus)
Whoa, Whoa not day.
Not another day of the old song.
Whoa, not another day.

Seems like nobody knew his name huh?
If he disappeared would they even see the blank
The only kids who notice are the ones who push him up and down the hallways and in the lunch rooms.
Sometimes he at his bruises,
He wants to come to school with a gun like those kids on the did.
Nah man, they don't to die,
And the type of kid that couldn't murder a fly.
I you get used to the life,
that's why he refuses to cry.
it on the chin,
it in stride,
What dosn't you just makes you stronger right?

So he sits by on the school bus,
Hoping that today he have to put his dukes up.
But just like any other here they come to fuck off with his comfort can't for summer.
It's the same old

Whoa, Whoa not day.
Not another day of the old song cumon.
Whoa, Whoa not day.

Woke up at the break of dawn when the city's blood-line to waste along.
The generator on those public buses is enough to bust you out of any daydream your in.
I guess that's the chance you takin' when you out infront of that transfer station.
And this town got no to chase man, that's why he always sleeps near the transportation.
Pan-handling, transient freedom. Transplant not from region.
But when the wind to whisper its lips he knows enough to pack it up and dip out before the winter hits.

Childhood washed down the gutter
Both gone, no sisters, no brothers.
memories, strong paranoia,
While the song repeats in his head
and over and over and over it goes:

Whoa, Whoa not day.
Not another day of the old song cumon.
Whoa, not another day.
Not another day of the old song cumon.
Whoa, not another day.
Not another day of the same old cumon.
Whoa, Whoa not day...