| Song | Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down - "Naked" version |
| Artist | Willie Nelson |
| Album | Naked Willie |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 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 desert | |
| then i fumbled through my closet for my clothes | |
| and found my cleanest dirty shirt | |
| then i washed my face and combed my hair | |
| and stumbled down the stair to meet the day | |
| i'd smoke my brain the night before | |
| with cigarettes and songs that i've been picking | |
| but i lit my first and watched a small kid cussin' at a can | |
| that he was kicking | |
| 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 | |
| ------像风一样整理制作------ | |
| on the sunday morning sidewalk | |
| wishing lord that i was stoned | |
| cause there's something in a sunday | |
| makes a body feel alone | |
| and there's nothing short of dying | |
| half as lonesome as the sound | |
| on the sleepin' city sidewalk | |
| sunday morning coming down | |
| in the park i saw a daddy | |
| with a laughing little girl he was swinging | |
| and i stopped beside a sunday school and | |
| listened to the songs that they were singing | |
| then i headed back for home | |
| and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing | |
| and it echoed through the canyons | |
| like a disappearing dream of yesterday | |
| on the sunday morning sidewalk | |
| wishing lord that i was stoned | |
| cause there's something in a sunday | |
| makes a body feel alone | |
| and there's nothing short of dying | |
| half as lonesome as the sound | |
| on the sleepin' city sidewalk | |
| sunday morning coming down | |
| du~~lo~~~~~ | |
| ...... |
| 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 desert | |
| then i fumbled through my closet for my clothes | |
| and found my cleanest dirty shirt | |
| then i washed my face and combed my hair | |
| and stumbled down the stair to meet the day | |
| i' d smoke my brain the night before | |
| with cigarettes and songs that i' ve been picking | |
| but i lit my first and watched a small kid cussin' at a can | |
| that he was kicking | |
| 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 | |
| xiang feng yi yang zheng li zhi zuo | |
| on the sunday morning sidewalk | |
| wishing lord that i was stoned | |
| cause there' s something in a sunday | |
| makes a body feel alone | |
| and there' s nothing short of dying | |
| half as lonesome as the sound | |
| on the sleepin' city sidewalk | |
| sunday morning coming down | |
| in the park i saw a daddy | |
| with a laughing little girl he was swinging | |
| and i stopped beside a sunday school and | |
| listened to the songs that they were singing | |
| then i headed back for home | |
| and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing | |
| and it echoed through the canyons | |
| like a disappearing dream of yesterday | |
| on the sunday morning sidewalk | |
| wishing lord that i was stoned | |
| cause there' s something in a sunday | |
| makes a body feel alone | |
| and there' s nothing short of dying | |
| half as lonesome as the sound | |
| on the sleepin' city sidewalk | |
| sunday morning coming down | |
| du lo | |
| ...... |
| 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 desert | |
| then i fumbled through my closet for my clothes | |
| and found my cleanest dirty shirt | |
| then i washed my face and combed my hair | |
| and stumbled down the stair to meet the day | |
| i' d smoke my brain the night before | |
| with cigarettes and songs that i' ve been picking | |
| but i lit my first and watched a small kid cussin' at a can | |
| that he was kicking | |
| 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 | |
| xiàng fēng yí yàng zhěng lǐ zhì zuò | |
| on the sunday morning sidewalk | |
| wishing lord that i was stoned | |
| cause there' s something in a sunday | |
| makes a body feel alone | |
| and there' s nothing short of dying | |
| half as lonesome as the sound | |
| on the sleepin' city sidewalk | |
| sunday morning coming down | |
| in the park i saw a daddy | |
| with a laughing little girl he was swinging | |
| and i stopped beside a sunday school and | |
| listened to the songs that they were singing | |
| then i headed back for home | |
| and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing | |
| and it echoed through the canyons | |
| like a disappearing dream of yesterday | |
| on the sunday morning sidewalk | |
| wishing lord that i was stoned | |
| cause there' s something in a sunday | |
| makes a body feel alone | |
| and there' s nothing short of dying | |
| half as lonesome as the sound | |
| on the sleepin' city sidewalk | |
| sunday morning coming down | |
| du lo | |
| ...... |