gitarre-kr.de

Sunday Morning Sidewalk (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 desert,
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 smoked my brain the night before on cigarettes and songs that I've been a-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 somethin' that I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way.

On the Sunday Morning sidewalk wishin', Lord, that I was stoned,
`Cos there's something in a Sunday makes a buddy feel alone,
And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalk sunday morning comin' down.

In the park I saw a daddy with laughing little girl that he was swingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday-school and listened to the song that they were singin'
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyon like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On the Sunday Morning sidewalk wishin', Lord, that I was stoned,
`Cos there's something in a Sunday makes a buddy feel alone,
And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalk sunday morning comin' down.