Luyện nghe bài hát A Month Of Sundays

I used to 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
I turn
And I see the cross the weathered
Faces and I the harvest burn

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

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

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

My grandson, he comes home college
He says, "We get the we deserve"
Son-in-law just his head and says
"That punk, he never had to serve"

And I sit here in the shadow of the
And look out these empty fields
I sit in earshot of the bypass and all
Night I listen to the of the wheels

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

Now, it all comes to numbers
Now I'm glad that I quit
Folks these just don't do nothin'
Simply for the of it

I into town of the fourth of July
Watched 'em past The Union Jack
'em break out the brass and beat on the drum
One forward and two steps back

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

And I sit on the back porch in the twilight
And I the crickets hum
I sit and the lightning in the distance
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 wonder when I'll see my again