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Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Johnny Cash
Johnny Cash
Chant
Bill Walker
Bill Walker
Direction d’orchestre
Bob Wootton
Bob Wootton
Guitare
W.S. Holland
W.S. Holland
Batterie
Marshall Grant
Marshall Grant
Basse
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Kris Kristofferson
Kris Kristofferson
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Bob Johnson
Bob Johnson
Production
Joe Casey
Joe Casey
Production déléguée
Margie Hunt
Margie Hunt
Production déléguée
Jonathan Russell
Jonathan Russell
Assistance d’ingénierie
Denny Purcell
Denny Purcell
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Randy Kling
Randy Kling
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Hoyt Dooley
Hoyt Dooley
Ingénierie de mastérisation

Paroles

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 Amd stumbled down the stairs to meet the day I'd smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin' But I lit my first and watched a small kid Playin' with a can that he was kicking Then I walked across the street And caught the Sunday smell of someone's fryin' chicken And Lord, 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 somethin' in a Sundays That makes a body feel alone And there's nothin' short of dyin' As half as lonesome as the sound Of a sleepin' city sidewalk And sunday mornin' comin' down In the park I saw a daddy With a laughin' little girl that he was swingin' And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singin' Then I headed down the street And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin' And it echoed through the canyons Like a disappearin' dreams of yesterday On a Sunday morning sidewalk I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned 'Cause there's somethin' in the Sundays That make somebody feel alone And there's nothing short of dyin' As half as lonesome as the sound Of a sleeping city sidewalks And sunday mornin' comin' down
Writer(s): Kris Kristofferson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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