Luyện nghe bài hát Not Another Day

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

By 5:30, halfway there,
And the back's already hurtin' the buses plastic chair.
"Live to work, to live, to work, to live."
She's gotta feed the kid and it all she's got to give.
Plus she's catch 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 everything out
But the same old

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

like nobody even knew his name huh?
If he disappeared would even see the blank spot?
The only kids who might notice are the ones who push him up and the hallways and in the lunch rooms.
he looks at his bruises,
He wants to come to school with a gun like those on the news did.
Nah man, they deserve to die,
And he's the type of kid couldn't murder a fly.
I guess you get 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 he wouldn't have to put his dukes up.
But just like any here they come to fuck off with his comfort can't wait for summer.
the same old song:

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

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

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

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