paroles de chanson Sunday Morning Comin' Down - Kris Kristofferson
KEY
OF
D
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
on
cigarettes
and
songs
That
I'd
been
picking
But
I
lit
my
first,
and
watched
a
small
kid
cursing
at
a
can
That
he
was
kicking
Then
I
crossed
the
empty
street
and
caught
the
Sunday
smell
Of
someone
frying
chicken
And
it
took
me
back
to
something
that
I
had
lost
somehow,
Somewhere
along
the
way
On
the
Sunday
morning
sidewalk,
Wishing
Lord
that
I
was
stoned
Cause
there
is
something
in
a
Sunday,
That
makes
a
body
feel
alone
And
there
is
nothing
short
of
dying,
Half
a
lonesome
as
the
sound,
As
the
sleeping
city
sidewalks,
Sunday
morning
coming
down
In
the
park
I
saw
a
daddy,
With
w
laughing
little
girl
who
he
was
swinging
And
I
stopped
beside
a
Sunday
school,
And
listened
to
a
song
that
they
were
singing
Then
I
headed
back
for
home
and
somewhere
far
away
A
lonely
bell
was
ringing
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
is
something
in
a
Sunday,
That
makes
a
body
feel
alone
And
there
is
nothing
short
of
dying,
Half
a
lonesome
as
the
sound,
As
the
sleeping
city
sidewalks,
Sunday
morning
coming
down
On
the
Sunday
morning
sidewalk,
Wishing
Lord
that
I
was
stoned
Cause
there
is
something
in
a
Sunday,
That
makes
a
body
feel
alone
And
there
is
nothing
short
of
dying,
Half
a
lonesome
as
the
sound,
As
the
sleeping
city
sidewalks,
Sunday
morning
coming
down
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