Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn't
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad so I had one for desert
I fumbled in my closet to my clothes and found my cleanest dirty skirt
And I washed my face and my hair stumbled down the stair to greed the day
I'd smoke my mind the night before cigarettes and songs I've been a picking
But I lit my and watched the small kid cursin' at a can that he was kicking
I crossed the empty street and caught
The Sunday smell of frying chicken
And it took me to something that I'd lost somewhere somehow along the way
On the Sunday sidewalk wishing Lord that I was stoned
there's something in a Sunday makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing sure to half as lonely as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming

In the park I saw a daddy the laughing little girl that he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday and listened to the songs they were singing
Then I back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyon like the dreams of yesterday
On the morning sidewalk...