Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down
In the park, I see a daddy with the laughin'
Little girl that he's a-swinging
And I stop beside a Sunday school
And listen to the song they're singing
I'm headin' back for home and somewhere far away
A lonely bell is ringing
And it echoes through the city like
My disappearing dreams of yesterday
On the Sunday mornin' sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was home
'Cause there's something 'bout a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing sure to dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down
I smoked so much the night before
My mouth feels like an ashtray I've been lickin'
Now I light my first and watch a small kid
Cussin' at the can he's been a kickin'
I cross the empty street and catch the
Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
And it takes me back to something that
I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way
On the Sunday mornin' sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was home
'Cause there's something 'bout a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing sure to dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down
On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was home
'Cause there's something 'bout a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
Little girl that he's a-swinging
And I stop beside a Sunday school
And listen to the song they're singing
I'm headin' back for home and somewhere far away
A lonely bell is ringing
And it echoes through the city like
My disappearing dreams of yesterday
On the Sunday mornin' sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was home
'Cause there's something 'bout a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing sure to dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down
I smoked so much the night before
My mouth feels like an ashtray I've been lickin'
Now I light my first and watch a small kid
Cussin' at the can he's been a kickin'
I cross the empty street and catch the
Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
And it takes me back to something that
I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way
On the Sunday mornin' sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was home
'Cause there's something 'bout a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing sure to dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down
On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was home
'Cause there's something 'bout a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
Credits
Writer(s): Kris Kristofferson
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