Tekster: Johnny Cash. 16 Biggest Hits. 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 in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
Stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small boy
[Incomprehensible] at a can that he'd been kicking

I crossed the empty street
Caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
And it took me back to somethin'
That I'd lost somewhere, somehow along the way

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone

And there ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
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
Listened to the songs that they were singin'

I headed down the road
Somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyons
Like a disappearing dream of yesterday

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Oh, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's something about a Sunday
That'll make your body feel alone

And there ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down