Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

I have no idea what happened to the weekend. There's a big blank spot that no doubt has something to do with a bottle of whisky, tequila, Jagermeister, Kuba Meister (yeah, I didn't know what that was either) or half a bucket of toxic sludge. Oh my... jelly and vodka, what a combo.

Anyhow. I'm somehow alive today even if I've never felt quite as beaten up as I did yesterday. No headache... no real hangover symptoms as of yet, but I was absolutely useless yesterday.

Which brings me down to today's song, "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down" (originally recorded by Ray Stevens) a track I've become familiar with Kris Kristofferson working the vocals.

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 the songs I'd been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playin' with a can that he was kicking
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone's fryin' chicken
And it took me back to somethin'
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 nothin' short of dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a 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 canyon
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 nothin' short of dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down

Can't believe I had actually been smoking on Saturday... and couldn't even find a beer for breakfast.