Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well I woke up Sunday
no way to hold my hand, didn't hurt
And the beer I had for wasn't bad
So I had one for dessert

Then I fumbled through my closet for my
And my cleanest dirty shirt
And I my face and combed my hair
And down the stairs to meet the day

I'd smoked my brain the before
With cigarettes and the that I'd been pickin'
But I lit my and watched a small kid
at a can that he was kicking

Then I the empty street
And caught the Sunday of someone fryin' chicken
And it took me back to
I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way

On the morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was
there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body alone

And there's nothin' short of
Half as lonesome as the
On the city sidewalk
mornin' comin' down

In the I saw a daddy
With a little girl who he was swingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday
And listened to the songs they were singin'

Then I headed back for
And somewhere far a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed the canyons
Like the dreams of yesterday

On the Sunday morning
Wishing Lord that I was
'Cause something in a Sunday
That makes a feel alone

And there's nothin' of dyin'
Half as as the sound
On the sleepin' city
Sunday mornin' comin'