Luyện nghe bài hát A Month Of Sundays

I to work for harvester
I to use my hands
I used to 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
Faces and I the harvest burn

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

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

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

My grandson, he comes home from
He says, "We get the we deserve"
just shakes his head and says
"That punk, he never had to serve"

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

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

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

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

And I saw a sign on street
Said, "Be to stop"
Pray for the independent, man
I don't see next crop

And I sit on the back porch in the twilight
And I the crickets hum
I sit and watch the lightning in the
But the showers never

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