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Sunday Morning Coming Down
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An old Kris Kristofferson song, turned into darkgaze doom metal, with a psychedelic sheen. Bass, Mellotron, phased guitar and my singing.
electronica trance ambient progressive metal doommetal drone experimental rock funeral doom metal prog metal psychedelic rock stoner metal experimental metal sludge metal
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I am very much back after a 20 year period, have a deformed left hand & severe nerve, tendon & muscle damage in right arm. I used all kinds of weird tunings.
Song Info
Genre
Metal • Doom Metal
Charts
Peak #20
Peak in subgenre #1
Author
Kris Kristofferson, arranged by Jimi Sweeney
Rights
LCD Productions
Uploaded
August 24, 2017
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.6 MB • 160 kbps • 4:03
Story behind the song
My uncle P.V. (Pete) passed away recently. He liked classic country music. I like this song and the Johnny Cash version. My tribute to Pete and Johnny.
Lyrics
Sunday Morning Coming Down 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's frying chicken And Lord, it took me back to something 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 something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing little girl that he was swinging And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singing Then I headed down the street And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing And it echoed through the canyons Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday On a Sunday morning sidewalk I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned 'Cause there's something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down By Kris Kristofferson
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