Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday Morning Coming Down

Well I woke up Sunday
With no way to hold my head that hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast bad
So I had one for desert

I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
And found my dirty shirt
And I shaved my and combed my hair
And stumbled the stairs to meet the day

Well I'd smoke my brain the before
With cigarettes and I'd been picking
But I lit my first and watched the small kid
At a can that he was

I crossed the empty street
And caught the Sunday of someone frying chicken
And it took me back to something that I'd
Somehow along the way

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

And nothing
(Sure)
Short of dying as lonesome as a sound
On the sleeping sidewalk
Sunday morning coming

In the I saw a daddy
With the laughing girl that he was swinging
And I stopped beside a school
And listened to the song that were singing

Then I headed back for
And somewhere far a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the
Like the disappearing of yesterday

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

And nothing
(Sure)
Short of dying half as as a sound
On the sleeping sidewalk
Sunday morning coming