Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well, I woke up Sunday
no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast bad,
So I had one for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my through my clothes
And my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and my hair
And down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my mind the before
With cigarettes and I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a kid
Playing with a can he was kicking.
I walked across the street
And caught the smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow the way.

On a Sunday sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a
That makes a body alone.
And nothing short a' dying
That's as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city
And morning coming down.

In the I saw a daddy
With a little girl that he was swinging.
And I beside a Sunday school
And listened to the they were singing.
Then I down the street,
And somewhere far a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed the canyon
Like the dreams of yesterday.