Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well I up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my hand, hurt
And the I had for breakfast wasn't bad
So I had one for dessert

Then I fumbled my closet for my clothes
And found my dirty shirt
And I shaved my and combed my hair
And down the stairs to meet the day

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

Then I crossed the street
And caught the Sunday smell of fryin' chicken
And it took me back to
That I'd somehow, somewhere along the way

On the Sunday sidewalk
Wishing Lord I was stoned
'Cause something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel

And there's nothin' of dyin'
Half as as the sound
On the city sidewalk
mornin' comin' down

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

Then I back for home
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was
And it through the canyons
Like the disappearing of yesterday

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 as the sound
On the sleepin' city
Sunday mornin' comin'