Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

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

I fumbled in my closet for my
And found my dirty shirt
And I my face and combed my hair
Stumbled the stair to meet the day

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

Then I crossed the street and caught the
Smell of someone fryin'
And it took me to something
That I'd somehow somewhere along the way

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

And nothing sure to dying
That's as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming

In the park I saw a with, 'The laughin' little girl'
he was swinging
And I stopped the Sunday school
And listened to the they were singing

Then I back for home
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was
And it echoed through the
Like the disappearing dreams of

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