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 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 a 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 thru the canyon
Like the disappearing 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.
