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Ouça Country dos anos 60: essenciais com Johnny Cash.
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Ouça Country dos anos 50: essenciais com Johnny Cash.
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Ouça Highwaymen: essenciais com Johnny Cash.
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Ouça Oldies: joias ocultas com Johnny Cash.
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Ouça Pop: hits de 1956 com Johnny Cash.
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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Johnny Cash
Johnny Cash
Vocals
Bill Walker
Bill Walker
Conductor
Bob Wootton
Bob Wootton
Guitar
W.S. Holland
W.S. Holland
Drums
Marshall Grant
Marshall Grant
Bass
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kris Kristofferson
Kris Kristofferson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bob Johnson
Bob Johnson
Producer
Joe Casey
Joe Casey
Executive Producer
Margie Hunt
Margie Hunt
Executive Producer
Jonathan Russell
Jonathan Russell
Assistant Engineer
Denny Purcell
Denny Purcell
Mastering Engineer
Randy Kling
Randy Kling
Mastering Engineer
Hoyt Dooley
Hoyt Dooley
Mastering Engineer

Letra

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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