Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down - Live at Sportovní hala, Prague, Czech Republic - April 1978

Well 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
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'
Then I lit my first and watched a small boy
Facin' at a can that he was kicking
I crossed the empty street
Caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
And 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 about a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
There ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
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
Listened to the songs they were singin'
I headed down the road
Somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Oh I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned
'Cause there's something about a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
There ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down