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 through my closet for my clothesAnd found my cleanest dirty shirtAnd I washed my face and combed my hairAnd stumbled down the stairs to meet the dayI'd smoked my brain the night beforeOn cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'But I lit my first and watched a small kidCussin' at a can that he was kickingThen I crossed the empty streetAnd caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chickenAnd it took me back to somethin'That I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the wayOn the Sunday morning sidewalkWishing, Lord, that I was stoned'Cause there's something in a SundayMakes a body feel aloneThere ain't nothin' short of dyin'Half as lonesome as the soundOn the sleepin' city sidewalksSunday mornin' comin' downIn the park I saw a daddyWith a laughin' little girl who he was swingin'And I stopped beside a Sunday schoolListened to the song they were singin'Then I headed back for homeAnd somewhere far away a lonesome bell was ringin'And it echoed through the canyonsLike the disappearing dreams of yesterdayOn the Sunday morning sidewalkWishing, Lord, that I was stoned'Cause there's something in a SundayMakes a body feel aloneThere ain't nothin' short of dyin'Half as lonesome as the soundOn the sleepin' city sidewalksSunday mornin' comin' downOn the Sunday morning sidewalkWishing, Lord, that I was stoned'Cause there's something in a SundayMakes your body feel aloneThere ain't nothin' short of dyin'Half as lonesome as the soundOn the sleepin' city sidewalksSunday mornin' comin' down
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Kristoffer Kristofferson (Brownsville, Texas; 22 de junio de 1936-Hana, Hawái; 28 de septiembre de 2024) fue compositor de música country, actor y cantante estadounidense ilustre por canciones como Me and Bobby McGee, For the Good Times, Sunday Mornin' Comin'…
