Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

Well, I up Sunday morning
no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for wasn't bad,
So I had one for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my through 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 night
With cigarettes and I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a kid
with a can that he was kicking.
Then I across the street
And the Sunday smell 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.
'Cause something in a Sunday
makes a body feel alone.
And there's short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the
Of the city sidewalk
And Sunday coming down.

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

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