Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

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

Then I fumbled through my for my clothes
And my cleanest dirty shirt
An' I washed my face, my hair
An' stumbled the stairs to meet the day

I'd smoked my brain the before
On cigarettes and songs that I'd pickin'
But I lit my and watched a small kid
Cussin' at a can that he was

Then I crossed the empty
An' caught the Sunday of someone fryin' chicken
And it me back to somethin'
That I'd somehow, somewhere along the way

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

There nothin' short of dyin'
as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' sidewalks
mornin' comin' down

In the park I saw a
With a laughin' little girl who he was
And I stopped beside a school
Listened to the song they were

I headed back for home
And somewhere far away a lonesome bell was
And it echoed through the
the disappearing dreams of yesterday

On the morning sidewalk
Wishing, Lord, I was stoned
'Cause something in a Sunday
Makes a body alone

ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Half as as the sound
On the city sidewalks
Sunday comin' down

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

There ain't short of dyin'
as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city
Sunday mornin' comin'