Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

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

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