Kris Kristofferson, 1936-2024

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

On a Sunday mornin’ sidewalk

I’m wishin’, Lord, that I was stoned

‘Cause there’s somethin’ in a Sunday 

That makes a body feel alone

And there’s nothin’ short a’ dyin’

That’s half as lonesome as the sound

Of the sleepin’ city sidewalk

And Sunday mornin’ comin’ down.  

or this one:

I don’t care who’s right or wrong

I don’t try to understand

Let the devil take tomorrow

Lord tonight I need a friend

Yesterday is dead and gone

And tomorrow’s out of sight

And it’s sad to be alone

Help me make it through the night

That is as good as it can get.