Sunday Morning Coming Down
(Johnny Cash)

(Kris Kristofferson)
1988 PolyGram Records Inc. (cover)

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 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
that I'd been picking
But I lit my first and watched a small boy
fussing at a can
that he'd been kicking

I crossed the empty street
and caught the Sunday smell of someone
frying chicken
And it took me back to something
that I'd lost somewhere
somehow along the way

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stone
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
that makes the body feel alone
And there ain't nothing short of dying
half as lonesome as the sound
of a sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy
with a laughing little girl
that he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
and listened to the song
that they were singing

I headed down the road
somewhere far away a lonely bell
was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons
like a disappearing dream
of yesterday

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stone
'Cause there's something 'bout a Sunday
that'll make your body feel alone
And there ain't nothing short of dying
half as lonesome as the sound
of a sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down