Sunday Morning Coming Down

(Kris Kristofferson)



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 desert.



Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes

And found my cleanest dirty shirt

Then I washed my face and combed my hair

And stumbled down the stair to meet the day.



I'd smoke my mind the night before with cigarettes

And songs that I'd been picking

But I lit my first and watched the small kid playing

With the can that he was kicking.



Then I walked across the street and caught

The Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken

Lord it took me back to something that I'd lost

Somewhere somehow along the way.



On the Sunday morning sidewalk

I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned

'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday

that makes a body feel alone.



And there's nothin' sure to dying

That's half as lonesome as the sound

Of the sleepin' city sidewalk

And Sunday morning coming down.



--- Instrumental ---



In the park I saw a daddy with

The laughin' little girl that he was swinging

And I stopped beside a Sunday school

And listened to the songs they were singing.



Then I headed down the street

And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing

And it echoed through the canyons

Like the disappearing dream of yesterday.



On the Sunday morning sidewalk

I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned

'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday

that makes a body feel alone.



And there's nothin' sure to dying

That's half as lonesome as the sound

Of the sleepin' city sidewalk

And Sunday morning coming down...