Sunday Morning Comin' Down

Kris KristoffersonKris Kristoffer… 

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Kris Kristofferson

Kristoffer "Kris" Kristofferson, BPhil (born June 22, 1936) is an American country music singer, songwriter and musician as well as a film actor. He is known for such hits as "Me and Bobby McGee", "For the Good Times", "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down", and "Help Me Make It Through the Night". Kristofferson is the sole writer of most of his songs, and he has collaborated with various other figures of the Nashville scene such as Shel Silverstein. In 1985, Kristofferson joined fellow country artists Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash in forming the country music supergroup "The Highwaymen". In 2004 Kristofferson was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. more »

Year:

2014

4:30

78 Views

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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 dessert
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt

And I shaved my face
And combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs
To meet the day

I'd smoked my brain the night before
With cigarettes and songs
That I've been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin' at a can that he was kickin

Then I crossed the empty street and
Caught the sunday smell of someone fryin chicken
And it took me back to something that I'd lost somehow
Somewhere along the way

On the sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing lord that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone

And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with a laughing little girl who he was swingin
And I stopped beside the Sunday school
And listened to the song that they were singing

Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed thru the canyon like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

On the sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing lord that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone

And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down

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