kris kristofferson
Sunday morning is often either a remind of a good-time party, a bad hangover or both. Kris caught me with this song early seventies, released with his debut album "Kristofferson" (Monument 1970). Ever since then, I've got this tune nailed to my playlist. It's cut by several important artists, first by Ray Stevens in September 1969, following 167 others up to date, but even Johnny Cash couldn't steal it. Kris never recorded a Cash song, but Johnny recorded a lot of Kristofferson's. Kristoffer Kristofferson (1936–2024) became an icon in songwriting, and this one is one of his best. Maybe THE one. Nobody can express loneliness like that blessed guy.
well I woke up Sunday morning
with no way to hold my head that did not hurt
and the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
so I had one more for desert
I fumbled through my closet
found my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
and I washed my face and combed my hair
and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
I smoked my mind the night before
on cigarettes and songs that I'd been picking
and I lit my first and watched the small boy
cussing 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
I lost somewhere somehow along the way
on a Sunday morning sidewalk
wishing Lord that I was stone
cause there's something in a Sunday
that makes the body feel alone
and there's nothing short of dieing
half as lonesome as the sound
of a sleepy city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down
in a park I saw a daddy
with a laughing little girl that he was swinging
and I stopped beside a Sunday school
listening to the songs that they were singing
then I headed back for home
and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
and it echoed through the canyon
like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
For the following CHORD section, fullscreen/horizontal mobile is recommended.
Chords in brackets may be omitted.
A well I woke up Sunday morning D E7 A with no way to hold my head that did not hurt A F#m and the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad E7 so I had one more for desert A A7 I fumbled through my closet D A ...F#m found my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt Bm E7 and I washed my face and combed my hair Bm E ...E7 and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day D on a Sunday morning sidewalk A ...F#m wishing Lord that I was stone E ...E7 cause there's something in a Sunday A that makes the body feel alone A7 D and there's nothing short of dieing A ...F#m half as lonesome as the sound E ...E7 of a sleepy city sidewalk A Sunday morning coming down
