I Am of the Stars
I Am of the Stars
Sunday Morning Coming Down
2
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Sunday Morning Coming Down

And Information About New Music
2

Sorry for not getting this out at my usual 10:00 time. I had it pretty much ready to go yesterday and forgot to schedule the send-time like I usually do. Though I am well-practiced in lateness, it still bothers me when I do it. I’ve been late with all the usual stuff: rent, school, church…but I’m working on it! Hey this could be a great topic for a future post. Anyway let’s get to the real deal.

Hey there and happy Friday,

I was saddened to hear the news that Kris Kristofferson passed away this week. Got me thinking about one of my favorite songs and I found myself singing it and recording it for this week’s post. Rhetorical question. Why do I like songs that make me feel sad? Maybe a topic for another post. But this is a a sad one to the tenth degree! I think what sticks with me about “Sunday Morning Coming Down” is the simple narrative. As I’m singing I imagine the speaker rising from his bed, drinking that beer…looking through that closet…finding his “cleanest dirty shirt” (my favorite line right there). Then he eventually sets out into the quiet town that is slowly waking up on this sleepy Sunday morning—but he’s not a part of it. Eventually he stops by the park…the Sunday school…and he leaves us with the echo of the bell, the “disappearing dreams of yesterday.” What a song!

I recorded this back in 2008 and released it on an EP. Have a listen. Lyrics are below. Thanks for the tunes Mr. Kristofferson!


Here’s the information part of this post.

Thanks for listening and for reading—have a great weekend! - Mick


Sunday Morning Coming Down (by Kris Kristofferson)

Well, I woke up Sunday mornin'
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 pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playin' with a can that he was kickin'
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 mornin' sidewalk
I'm wishin', Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothin' short a' dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the 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 the disappearin' dreams of yesterday

On a Sunday mornin' sidewalk
I'm wishin', Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothin' short a' dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down

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