Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

Well I woke up Sunday with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
And the beer I had for wasn't bad so I had one more for desert
Then I in my closet to my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
And I washed my face and combed my hair stumbled down the stairs to the day

Well I'd smoked my brain the before
With cigarettes and songs that'd I'd been
But I lit my first and watched the small kid cussin' at a can he was kicking
Then I the empty street
And caught the Sunday of someone fryin' chicken
And it took me back to something that I've lost somehow somewhere the way

On a Sunday morning
wishing Lord that I was
Cause there's something in a Sunday that makes a body alone

And there's nothing short of that passes lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city
on morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with a laughing little he was swingin'
And I stopped a Sunday school
And listened to the song that they singin'
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a bell was ringin'
And it echoed the canyons like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
On a Sunday sidewalk..

On a morning sidewalk
I'm Lord that I was stoned
there's something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the
Of the sleeping city
on Sunday morning coming