Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

Well, I woke up morning
With no way to hold my head that hurt
And the I had for breakfast wasn't bad
So I had one more for

I fumbled in my for my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty
And I my face and combed my hair
Stumbled down the to meet the day

Well, I'd smoke my brain the before
With cigarettes and songs, I'd a picking
But I lit my and watched the small kid
at a can that he was kicking

Then I crossed the and caught the Sunday
Smell of fryin' chicken
And it took me to something
That I'd lost somehow somewhere the way

On the Sunday morning
Wishing Lord I was stoned
there's something in a Sunday
Makes a body alone

And there's sure to dying
That's as lonesome as the sound
On the city sidewalk
And morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with, 'The little girl'
he was swinging
And I beside the Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were

Then I headed back for
And somewhere far away a bell was ringing
And it through the canyons
the disappearing dreams of yesterday

On the Sunday morning
Lord that I was stoned
'Cause there's in a Sunday
Makes a body feel