Sunday Morning Coming Down — текст песни (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
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
I`d smoke my brain the night before on cigarettes and songs that I`ve been pickin`
And I lit my first and watched the small kid cussin` at the can that he`s kickin`
Then I crossed the empty street and caught
The Sunday smell of someone fryin` chicken
And it took me back to something 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
There ain`t nothing sure to dying half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin` city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with the laughin` 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 down the street 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...
On the Sunday morning sidewalk...