Sunday Morning Coming Down
In a little cabaret In a south Texas boarder town Sat a boy and his guitar And the people came from all around And all the girls From there to Austin Were slippin' away from home And puttin' jewelry in hock to take the trip To go and listen To the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box And he would play Well he couldn't ride or wrangle And he never cared to make it dime But give him his guitar And he'd be happy all the time And all the girls From nine to ninety Were snappin' fingers Tappin' toes And beggin' him don't stop And hypnotized And fascinated By the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box And he would play Then one day he was gone And no one ever saw him 'round He vanished like the breeze They forgot him in the little town But all the girls Still dreamed about him And hung around The caberet until the doors were locked And then one day On the hit parade Was a little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box And he would play
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"Sunday Morning Coming Down Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 13 Oct. 2019. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/27407998/Rosanne+Cash>.