Sunday Morning Comin' Down

Johnny PaycheckJohnny Paycheck 

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Johnny Paycheck

Johnny Paycheck was the stage name of Donald Eugene Lytle (May 31, 1938 – February 19, 2003), a country music singer and Grand Ole Opry member most famous for recording the David Allan Coe song "Take This Job and Shove It". He achieved his greatest success in the 1970s as a major force in country music's "Outlaw Movement" popularized by artists such as David Allan Coe, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Billy Joe Shaver and Merle Haggard. In the 1980s, his music career suffered from his problems with drugs, alcohol, and legal difficulties. He served a prison sentence in the early 1990s but his declining health effectively ended his career in early 2000. more »

Year:

2013

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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 through my closet
For my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
And I shaved my face
And combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs
To meet the day

I'd smoked my brain the night before
With cigarettes and songs
That I've been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin' at a can that he was kickin

Then I crossed the empty street and
Caught the sunday smell
Of someone fryin chicken
And it took me back to something
That I'd lost somehow
Somewhere along the way

On the sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing lord that I was stoned
Cause there's something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl
He was swingin
And I stopped beside the Sunday school
And listened to the song
That they were singing

Then I headed back for home
And somewhere far away
A lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed thru the canyon like
The disappearing dreams of yesterday

On the sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing lord that I was stoned
Cause therels something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down

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