Luyện nghe bài hát A Month Of Sundays

I to work for harvester
I to use my hands
I to make the tractors and the
Combines that plowed and harvested great land

Now I see my handiwork on the
Everywhere I
And I see the clouds cross the
and I watch the harvest burn

Quit the in '57
Had time for farmin' then
Banks back then was lendin'
The banker was the farmer's

I've seen dog days and dusty
Late spring snow and early sleet
I've the leather reins in my hands
I've felt the ground under my feet

Between the hot, dry and the taxes
And the cold war it's hard to make ends meet
But I kept the clothes on out backs
I put the shoes on our feet

My grandson, he comes home from
He says, "We get the we deserve"
Son-in-law just shakes his and says
"That little punk, he had to serve"

And I sit here in the shadow of the
And out across these empty fields
I sit here in earshot of the and all
Night I to the rushin' of the wheels

Big boys, all got computers
Got incorporated, too
Me, I know how to raise things
That was all I ever

Now, it all down to numbers
Now I'm that I have quit
Folks these days don't do nothin'
for the love of it

I went town of the fourth of July
'em parade past The Union Jack
Watched 'em break out the brass and on the drum
One step and two steps back

And I saw a sign on street
Said, "Be to stop"
for the independent, little man
I see next year's crop

And I sit here on the porch in the twilight
And I the crickets hum
I sit and watch the in the distance
But the showers come

I sit here and listen to the blow
I sit and rub my hands
I it and listen to the clock strike
And I wonder when I'll see my companion