Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well, I woke up Sunday
no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet my clothes
And my cleanest dirty shirt.
I washed my face and combed my hair
And down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my mind the before
With cigarettes and songs I'd picking.
But I lit my first and a small kid
Playing a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked the street
And caught the Sunday of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something I'd lost
Somewhere, along the way.

On a Sunday sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned.
there's something in a Sunday
That makes a feel alone.
And there's nothing a' dying
half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping sidewalk
And morning coming down.

In the I saw a daddy
a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped a Sunday school
And listened to the they were singing.
Then I down the street,
And far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the
the disappearing dreams of yesterday.