Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well I woke up morning
With no way to my hand, didn't hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast bad
So I had one for dessert

I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty
And I shaved my face and my hair
And stumbled the stairs to meet the day

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

Then I the empty street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone chicken
And it took me to somethin'
That I'd lost somehow, somewhere the way

On the Sunday morning
Wishing that I was stoned
'Cause there's in a Sunday
That a body feel alone

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

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

Then I headed for home
And far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed the canyons
the disappearing dreams of yesterday

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

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