| @KMIDI KARAOKE FILE@V0100@IFile created with EasyKar95@I(c) 1996-1997 V. Palleschi@Ie-mail: vince@risc.ifam.pi.cnr.it@LENGL@TSUNDAY_MORNIN_COMIN_DOWN-(JOHNNY_CASH)-48K
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
Than I fumble 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
and cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin'
but I lit my first and watched a small kid
cussin' at a can that he was kicking
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 a sunday mornin' sidewalk
wishing Lord that I was stoned
'cause there is something in a sunday
that makes a body feel alone
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
half as lonesome as the sound
on the sleepin' city side walks
Of Sunday mornin' comin' down
In the park I saw a daddy with
a laughing little girl who he was swingin'
and I stopped beside a sunday school
and listened to the song they were singin'
Then I headed back for home and
somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
and it echoed thru the canyon like
the dissappearing dreams of yesterday.
On a sunday mornin' sidewalk
wishing Lord that I was stoned
'cause there is something in a sunday
that makes a body feel alone
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
half as lonesome as the sound
on the sleepin' city side walks
Of Sunday mornin' comin' down@KMIDI KARAOKE FILE tm@KAll rights reserved, TUNE 1000 CORP.@V0100@I 08-09-93, 08:30, V.T.@KCopyright EMI International rights secured@LENGL@TSUNDAY MORNIN' COMIN' DOWN@TWords & Music by Kris Kristofferson@TCopyright EMI International rights secured@WALL rights reserved. Not for broadcast or@Wtransmission of any kind.@WDO NOT DUPLICATE. NOT FOR RENTAL.
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 in my closet through 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 smoked my mind the night before
with cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin'.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
playin' with a can that he was kickin'.
Then I walked across the street
and caught the Sunday smell of someone's
fryin' chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to somethin'
that I lost somewhere, somehow along the way.
On a Sunday mornin' sidewalk,
I'm wishin', Lord, that I was stoned,
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday
that makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
that's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin' city sidewalks
and Sunday mornin' comin' down.
In the park, I saw a daddy
with a laughin' little girl that he was swingin'.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
and listened to the songs they were singin'.
Then I headed down the streets,
and somewhere far away a lonely bell
was ringin'.
And it echoed through the canyons
like a disappearin' dream of yesterday.
On a Sunday mornin' sidewalk,
I'm wishin', Lord, that I was stoned,
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday
that makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
that's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin' city sidewalks
and Sunday mornin' comin' down.%-%+%-%+%-%+ |
