Luyện nghe bài hát Not Another Day

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

By 5:30, halfway there,
And the back's already 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 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 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, Whoa not day.

Seems like nobody even his name huh?
If he disappeared would they see the blank spot?
The only kids who might notice are the ones who push him up and down the and in the lunch rooms.
Sometimes he at his bruises,
He wants to to school with a gun like those kids on the news did.
Nah man, they don't to die,
And he's the type of kid that 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 just makes you right?

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

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

Woke up at the of dawn when the city's blood-line starts to waste 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 out infront of that transfer station.
And this town got no to chase man, that's why he always sleeps near the transportation.
Pan-handling, transient freedom. Transplant not this region.
But when the wind starts to whisper its lips he knows to pack it up and dip out before the winter hits.

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

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