Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down (live)

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

I'd my mind the night before
With and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my and watched a small kid
Playing with a can he was kicking.
Then I walked across the
And the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to that I'd lost
Somewhere, along the way.

On a Sunday sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned.
'Cause there's in a Sunday
makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a'
That's half as lonesome as the
Of the sleeping city
And Sunday coming down.

In the I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl he was swinging.
And I beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs were singing.
I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the
Like the dreams of yesterday.

On a morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned.
'Cause there's in a Sunday
That makes a body alone.
And there's nothing short a'
half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city
And Sunday morning down.