Текст песни Lynn Anderson - Sunday Morning Coming Down
Lynn Anderson - Sunday Morning Coming Down слова песни
Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn`t hurtAnd the beer I had for breakfast wasn`t bad so I had one more for desertThen I fumbled in my closet to my clothes and found my cleanest dirty skirtAnd I washed my face and combed my hair stumbled down the stair to greed the dayI`d smoke my mind the night before with cigarettes and songs I`ve been a pickingBut I lit my first and watched the small kid cursin` at a can that he was kickingThen I crossed the empty street and caughtThe Sunday smell of someone frying chickenAnd it took me back to something that I`d lost somewhere somehow along the wayOn the Sunday morning sidewalk wishing Lord that I was stonedCause there`s something in a Sunday makes a body feel aloneAnd there`s nothing sure to dying half as lonely as the soundOf the sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming downIn the park I saw a daddy with the laughing little girl that he was swingingAnd I stopped beside a Sunday school and listened to the songs they were singingThen I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringingAnd it echoed through the canyon like the disappearing dreams of yesterdayOn the Sunday morning sidewalk...