Luyện nghe bài hát Not Another Day

She the bus at 5:06
That's in the AM for all you little kids.
And it's a 45 trip
If she in by 6, she'll catch another pink-slip.
And that's 3, and means FIRED,
A coffee thermice in the purse to her keep wired.
The day-care she drops the baby 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 catch a little overtime,
If she stays 4 she could be home 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.

like nobody even knew his name huh?
If he disappeared they even see the blank spot?
The only kids who might notice are the who push him up and down 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, they 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 dosn't break you just you stronger right?

So he sits by himself on the bus,
Hoping that today he wouldn't to put his dukes 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, Whoa not day.
Not another day of the same old cumon.
Whoa, not another day.

Woke up at the break of dawn the city's blood-line starts to waste along.
The generator on those public buses is enough to bust you out of any your stuck in.
I guess that's the chance you takin' 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 whisper its lips he enough to pack it up and dip out before the winter hits.

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

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