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 my clothes
And found my cleanest shirt.
Then I washed my face and my hair
And down the stairs to meet the day.

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

On a Sunday sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned.
'Cause there's in a Sunday
That makes a body alone.
And there's nothing a' dying
That's as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city
And Sunday morning down.

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