Luyện nghe bài hát Not Another Day

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

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

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

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

Seems like even knew his name huh?
If he would they even see the blank spot?
The only kids who might notice are the ones who push him up and down the and in the lunch rooms.
he looks at his bruises,
He wants to come to school with a gun like those kids on the did.
Nah man, don't deserve to die,
And he's the type of kid 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 break you makes you stronger right?

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

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

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

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

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