Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

Well, I woke up Sunday
With no way to hold my head didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast bad,
So I had one for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my
And found my dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and my hair
And stumbled the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my mind the before
cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and a small kid
with a can that he was kicking.
Then I across the street
And caught the Sunday of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow the way.

On a Sunday sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a
That makes a body alone.
And there's short a' dying
half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping sidewalk
And Sunday coming down.

In the park I saw a
With a little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday
And listened to the songs were singing.
Then I headed the street,
And somewhere far away a bell was ringing,
And it through the canyon
Like the dreams of yesterday.