Luyện nghe bài hát Not Another Day

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

She caught the bus at
in the AM for all you little trust-fund kids.
And a 45 minute trip
If she aint in by 6, she'll catch pink-slip.
And that's 3, and means FIRED,
A coffee thermice in the 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, she's there,
And the back's already from the buses plastic chair.
"Live to work, to live, to work, to live."
She's gotta the kid and give it all she's got to give.
Plus she's catch a little overtime,
If she stays 'til 4 she could be by 5.
Shuts her eyes for the of the route,
And keeps the head-phones to drown everything out
But the same old

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

Seems like nobody even knew his huh?
If he would they 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.
Sometimes he at his bruises,
He wants to come to school with a gun those kids on the news did.
Nah man, don't deserve to die,
And he's the of kid that couldn't murder a fly.
I guess you get to the life,
Maybe that's why he to cry.
it on the chin,
it in stride,
What dosn't you just makes you stronger right?

So he by himself on the school bus,
Hoping that he wouldn't have to put his dukes up.
But like any other here they come to fuck off with his comfort can't wait for summer.
the same old song:

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

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

Childhood dreams washed the gutter
parents gone, no sisters, no brothers.
Weak memories, paranoia,
the same song repeats in his head
over and over and over and it goes:

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