Luyện nghe bài hát A Month Of Sundays

I used to 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 cross the weathered
Faces and I watch the harvest

Quit the in '57
Had some time for then
Banks back then was 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 under my

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

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

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

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

Now, it all comes to numbers
Now I'm glad that I quit
Folks these days just do nothin'
Simply for the of it

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

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

And I sit here on the back porch in the
And I the crickets hum
I sit and the lightning in the distance
But the showers never

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