Luyện nghe bài hát Drinkin' In My Sunday Dress

I can barely the sheets with all these crumbs down in my bed, oh no.
How can I get to sleep with all this buzzin' in my
An' who'd've thought I'd not complain about a mess?
me right, I guess:
This is I get for eatin' crackers with my gin,
An' drinkin' in my dress.

is by the bottle which is always by my bed.
Time to time I give it a rattle to make sure that not dead.
I wait here for your call till I run out of cigarettes.
I to play the part of the damsel in distress,
ashes in my coffee,
Drinkin' in my dress.

Well been on the road to this,
An' been on the way to this,
But who'd 'a think it'd come to
Don't let on you've seen me this, like this.

My old transistor's soundin' just as as a Fender.
My growls like Elvis after Sunday dinner.
I've drained my last Tequila and I've thrown the blender,
I've poured out all the wine; now on nothin' but the best:
an' Patsy Cline,
While drinkin' in my dress.

I've been on the road to this,
An' been on the way to this.
I surely ain't a
had my fun and now I must confess.

Our reverend is a kingly soul; 'em on a dime.
His is not inked in gold, he is not the cheatin' kind.
One after meetin', I was in the greetin' line.
He said: "I've seen you the altar,
"Gulpin' down wine."
"Just remember who's beside you when it's no of mine."
I said: "Just remember beside you when it's no business of mine."