Well I woke up Sunday morningWith no way to hold my head, that didn't hurtAnd the beer I had for breakfast wasn't badSo I had one more for dessertThen I fumbled in my closet through my clothesAnd found my cleanest dirty shirtThen I washed my face and combed my hairAnd stumbled down the stairs to meet the dayI'd smoked my mind the night beforeWith cigarettes and the songs I'd been pickin'But I lit my first and watched a small kidPlayin' with a can that he was kickingThen I walked across the streetAnd caught the Sunday smell of someone's fryin' chickenAnd Lord, it took me back to somethin'That I'd lost somewhere, somehow, along the wayOn a Sunday morning sidewalkI'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned'Cause there's something in a SundayThat makes a body feel aloneAnd there's nothin' short of dyin'That's half as lonesome as the soundOf the sleepin' city sidewalkAnd Sunday mornin' comin' downIn the park I saw a daddyWith a laughin' little girl that he was swingin'And I stopped beside a Sunday schoolAnd listened to the songs they were singin'Then I headed down the streetAnd somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'And it echoed through the canyonLike the disappearin' dreams of yesterdayOn a Sunday morning sidewalkI'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned'Cause there's something in a SundayThat makes a body feel aloneAnd there's nothin' short of dyin'That's half as lonesome as the soundOf a sleepin' city sidewalkAnd Sunday mornin' comin' down
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Johnny Cash (nacido como J. R. Cash, Kingsland, Arkansas, 26 de febrero de 1932-Nashville, 12 de septiembre de 2003) fue un cantante, compositor, músico y actor estadounidense. Considerado como uno de los músicos más influyentes del siglo XX. Considerado «el…
