Sunday Morning Comin' Down

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 Lord, 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 the 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 disappearin' 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