Sunday Mornin Comin Down (originally by kris kristoperson) Well I woke up Sunday morning With no way to hold my head, that didnt hurt And the beer I had for breakfast wasnt bad, So I had one more for dessert. 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 stairs to meet the day. Id smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and the songs Id been pickin But I lit my first and watched a small kid Playin with a can that he was kicking Then I walked across the street And caught the Sunday smell of someones fryin chicken And it took me back to somethin That Id lost somewhere, somehow along the way. On a Sunday morning sidewalk Im wishing Lord that I was stoned Cause theres something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And theres nothin short of dyin Thats half as lonesome as the sound Of a sleepin city sidewalk And Sunday mornin comin down. In the park I saw a daddy With a laughin little girl who he was swingin And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singin Then I headed down the street And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin And it echoed thru the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday. On a Sunday morning sidewalk Im wishing Lord that I was stoned Cause theres something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And theres nothin short of dyin Thats half as lonesome as the sound Of a sleepin city sidewalk And Sunday mornin comin down.
Posted on: Thu, 25 Sep 2014 03:14:06 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015