Sunday morning coming down
Det är söndagsmorgon, himlen är grå och jag är sjuk och sitter och snörvlar lite miserabelt till tonerna av Johnny Cash. Poetiskt...
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 I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.
Kommentarer
Postat av: Anonym
ska du vara hemma imorgon? jag tror jag ska det men jag kan inte bestämma mig...svårt
Postat av: Anonym
oh denna låt, älskar den. lyssna även på Kris Kristofferson verison det är han som skrivit den. Finns på hans första skiva tror jag:)
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