paroles de chanson Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down (Live from RCA Studios 1972) - Kris Kristofferson
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
An'
I
shaved
my
face,
combed
my
hair
An'
stumbled
down
the
stairs
to
meet
the
day
I'd
smoked
my
brain
the
night
before
On
cigarettes
and
songs
that
I'd
been
pickin'
But
I
lit
my
first
and
watched
a
small
kid
Cussin'
at
a
can
that
he
was
kicking
Then
I
crossed
the
empty
street
An'
caught
the
Sunday
smell
of
someone
fryin'
chicken
And
it
took
me
back
to
somethin'
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
Makes
a
body
feel
alone
And
there's
nothin'
short
of
dyin'
Half
as
lonesome
as
the
sound
On
the
sleepin'
city
sidewalks
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
Listened
to
the
song
that
they
were
singin'
Then
I
headed
back
for
home
And
somewhere
far
away
a
lonesome
bell
was
ringin'
And
it
echoed
through
the
canyons
Like
the
disappearing
dreams
of
yesterday
On
the
Sunday
morning
sidewalk
Wishing,
Lord,
that
I
was
stoned
'Cause
there's
something
in
a
Sunday
Makes
a
body
feel
alone
And
there's
nothin'
short
of
dyin'
Half
as
lonesome
as
the
sound
On
the
sleepin'
city
sidewalks
Sunday
mornin'
comin'
down
On
the
Sunday
morning
sidewalk
Wishing,
Lord,
that
I
was
stoned
'Cause
there's
something
in
a
Sunday
Makes
your
body
feel
alone
There
ain't
nothin'
short
of
dyin'
Half
as
lonesome
as
the
sound
On
the
sleepin'
city
sidewalks
Sunday
mornin'
comin'
down
Attention! N'hésitez pas à laisser des commentaires.