Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Album: Kristofferson (1970)
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  • Well, I woke up Sunday morning
    With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
    And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
    So I had one more for dessert
    Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
    And found my cleanest dirty shirt
    And I shaved my face and combed my hair
    And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

    I'd smoked my brain the night before
    On cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin'
    But I lit my first and watched a small kid
    Cussin' at a can that he was kicking
    Then I crossed the empty street
    And caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
    And it took me back to something that I'd lost
    Somehow, somewhere along the way

    On the Sunday morning sidewalk
    Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
    'Cause there's something in a Sunday
    Makes a body feel alone
    And there's nothin' short of dyin'
    Half as lonesome as the sound
    On the sleeping city sidewalks
    Sunday morning coming down

    In the park I saw a daddy
    With a laughin' little girl who he was swinging
    And I stopped beside a Sunday school
    And listened to the song that they were singing
    Then I headed back for home
    And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
    And it echoed through the canyons
    Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

    On the Sunday morning sidewalk
    Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
    'Cause there's something in a Sunday
    Makes a body feel alone
    And there's nothin' short of dyin'
    Half as lonesome as the sound
    On the sleepin' city sidewalks
    Sunday morning coming down Writer/s: Kris Kristofferson
    Publisher: O/B/O DistroKid, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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