Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well, I woke up Sunday mornin' 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 songs that I've been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid playin' with a can that he was kickin'
Then I walked across the street and caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
Lord, it took me back to something 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 nothing short of dying, that's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleeping city sidewalk and Sunday mornin' comin' down

In the park, I saw a daddy with a laughing little girl that he was swingin'
And I stopped beside the Sunday school and listened to the song that they were singing
Then I headed down the street and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dream 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 nothing short of dying that's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk and Sunday mornin' comin' down