Song Description

Tribute to the Real Deal artists of country.

Lyrics

Sunday Morning Outlaw

I remember Sunday mornings when I was just a kid
The smell of fryin' bacon wakin' up my head
Waylon and Willie on that kitchen radio
I thought Lukenbach Texas might be the place to go

Even though my friends couldn't stand that stuff
I'd wake up early Sunday mornin' I couldn't get enough
Of the man in black on that kitchen radio
I thought Jackson might be the place to go

For six days a week I played the Stones
I couldn't even let my buddies know
Come sunrise Sunday mornin' I'd be in my Momma's kitchen
Diggin' on that country radio

I like that drivin' rhythm and those screamin' guitars
I listened to the eight tracks, I listened at the bars
To that old Buck Owens on my pickup's radio
I thought Bakersfield might be the place to go

For six days a week I played Van Halen
While secretly I was learnin' Waylon
Come sunrise Sunday mornin' I'd be in my Momma's kitchen
Diggin' on that country radio

Every time I dropped a quarter into a jukebox slot
I played something greezy, I punched in something hot
I wanna get whiskey bent and hell bound 'cause Bocephus told me so
I thought Nashville Tennesee might be the place to go

Now for six days a week I play the outlaws
Strap on my guitar and let 'er go
Come sunrise Sunday mornin' I'm still in my Momma's kitchen
Diggin on that country radio

D. Hall / C. Robson copyright 2008