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 thermice 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."
She's gotta feed the kid and give it all got to give.
Plus she's tryin'a catch a overtime,
If she stays 4 she could be home by 5.
Shuts her eyes for the of the route,
And keeps the loud to drown everything out
But the old song:

(Chorus)
Whoa, not another 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 notice are the ones who push him up and down the hallways and in the lunch rooms.
he looks at his bruises,
He wants to come to school a gun like those kids on the news did.
Nah man, don't deserve to die,
And he's the type of kid that couldn't a fly.
I guess you get to the life,
that's why he refuses to cry.
it on the chin,
it in stride,
What break 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 to fuck off with his comfort can't wait for summer.
It's the same old

Whoa, Whoa not day.
Not day of the same old song 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 daydream 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, that's why he sleeps near the transportation.
Pan-handling, freedom. Transplant not from this region.
But when the wind starts to its lips he knows enough to pack it up and dip out before the winter hits.

Childhood dreams washed 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 same old cumon.
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...