a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Sunday Morning...

and I can't get this song out of my head. Sang by Johnny Cash, it was quite a popular song. I heard it on radio and knew Kris wrote the lyrics.

Why is this going through my head?

My Sunday morning is filled with bird song and the background noise of various electric appliances. No one is awake yet and this is my favorite time of day when I don't have to talk and my mind can go where ever it wants to and I just follow along.

I don't worry about what I must do nor what I should do but just enjoy the moment and hope there are no disasters today.

SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN

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.

Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An' I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my brain the night before,
On cigarettes and songs I'd 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,
'n 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,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.'
Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.

And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

In the park I saw a daddy,
With a laughin' 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 through the canyons,
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.

And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

[ More Kristofferson Kris Lyrics

2 comments:

Rudee said...

Kris wrote some amazing songs.

I hope the rest of your Sunday goes as well as the morning.

Irene said...

Are you feeling the blues, girl? The country blues? Do you need a good old cowboy by your side? Johnny Cash sure sang some great songs. They all broke my heart, especially the last one.

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