Søndag morgen med Harald Thune
Komponert og innspilt av Kris Kristofferson. Sunget til topps på Billboard av Johnny Cash. Men den aller fineste versjonen fikk vi ikke høre før våren 2023!
«Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down» - oftest notert som «Sunday Morning Coming Down» - er en av de store klassikerne i country-katalogen. Den handler om å våkne opp en søndag morgen. Én øl er ikke nok, så da blir det en til. Hvilken søndag det skulle bli, der sangeren vandrer gatelangs.
Kris Kristoffersons blinkskudd ble første gang innspilt av Ray Stevens i 1969. 20 år seinere tok Johnny Cash tak i den, og sang den til topps på Billboards country-lister.
Kris Kristoffersons egne versjoner er veldig low key. Johnny Cash er mer uptempo – en utvikling Harald Thune tar et skritt videre. Dette er faktisk enda tøffere enn Johnny Cash. Du finner den på din strømmetjeneste. Og du burde finne fram – jo før, jo bedre.
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 washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
I'd smoked my brain the night before
On cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'
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 somethin'
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
Makes a body feel alone
There ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalks
Sunday mornin' comin' down
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughin' little girl who he was swingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
Listened to the song they were singin'
Then I headed back for home
And somewhere far away a lonesome bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyons
Like the disappearing dreams 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
There ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalks
Sunday mornin' comin' down
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