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Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Artist:Kris Kristofferson  Album:Kristofferson  Composer:KRISTOFFERSON KRISTOFFER 

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Well 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 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 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 sidewalks, wishin' Lord, that I was stoned 'Cause there's something in a Sunday, makes a body feel alone And there's nothin' short of



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