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 this land

Now I see my on the block
Everywhere I
And I see the clouds cross the
Faces and I watch the burn

Quit the in '57
Had some 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
I've held the leather in my hands
I've felt the ground under my feet

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

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

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

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

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

I went into town of the 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 street
Said, "Be to stop"
for the independent, little man
I don't see next 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 wind
I sit here and rub my
I it here and to the clock strike
And I wonder when I'll see my companion