Luyện nghe bài hát Not Another Day

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

She caught the bus at
That's in the AM for all you trust-fund kids.
And it's a 45 minute
If she aint in by 6, she'll another pink-slip.
And 3, and that means 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, she's there,
And the back's already hurtin' from the buses chair.
"Live to work, to live, to work, to live."
She's feed the kid and give it all she's got to give.
Plus tryin'a catch a little overtime,
If she 'til 4 she could be home by 5.
Shuts her 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 nobody even knew his huh?
If he disappeared would they even see the blank
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 to come to school with a gun like those kids on the news did.
Nah man, they don't to die,
And he's the 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 break you makes you stronger right?

So he sits by on the school bus,
Hoping that today he wouldn't have to put his up.
But just any other here they come to fuck 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 blood-line starts to along.
The generator on those public buses is enough to you out of any daydream your stuck in.
I guess that's the chance you takin' when you camp out infront of that 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 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 old song cumon.
Whoa, not another day.
Not day of the same old song cumon.
Whoa, not another day.
Not another day of the same old cumon.
Whoa, not another day...