Sunday Morning Coming Down - Live at Österåker Prison, Sweden - October 1972

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
And 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'd been pickin'
Then I lit my first and watched a small boy
Dashing at a can that he was kickin'

Then I crossed the empty street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
And it took me back to somethin' that I lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishin', Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone

And there ain't nothin' short of dying, oh no
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughin' little girl that he was swingin'
And then I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singin'
Like bringin' in the sheets

And then I went on down the road
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyons
Like a disappearin' dreams of yesterday

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishin', Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone

And there ain't nothing short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down