paroles de chanson Sunday Morning Coming Down - Steve Hofmeyr

As I woke up Sunday mornin′,
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
Then I shaved my face and combed my hair,
Stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
Well, I'd smoked my brain the night before,
With cigarettes and the songs I'd been pickin′
And I lit my first to watch the small
Kid, cursin′ at a can that he was kickin'
Then I across the empty street,
And caught the Sunday smell of someone′s fryin' chicken
And it took me back to somethin′
That I'd lost somehow, somewhere, along the way
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishin′ Lord that I was stoned
Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there′s nothin′ sure as dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleepin′ city sidewalk
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 back for home
Somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyons
Like the disappearin′ dreams of yesterday
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishin′ Lord that I was stoned
Cause there's somethin′ in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothin′ sure of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleepin′ city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down