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 through my closet
+
For my clothes
+
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
+
And I shaved my face
+
And combed my hair
+
And stumbled down the stairs
+
To meet the day
+
I'd smoked my brain the night before
+
With cigarettes and songs
+
That I've been pickin'
+
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
+
Cussin' 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 something
+
That I'd lost somehow
+
Somewhere along the way
+
On the sunday morning sidewalk
+
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
+
Half as lonesome as the sound
+
On the sleeping city sidewalk
+
Sunday morning coming down
+
In the park I saw a daddy
+
With a laughing little girl
+
He was swingin
+
And I stopped beside the Sunday school
+
And listened to the song
+
That they were singing
+
Then I headed back for home
+
And somewhere far away
+
A lonely bell was ringing
+
And it echoed thru the canyon like
+
The disappearing dreams of yesterday
+
On the sunday morning sidewalk
+
Wishing lord that I was stoned
+
Cause therels something in a sunday
+
That makes a body feel alone
+
And there's nothing short of dying
+
Half as lonesome as the sound
+
On the sleeping city sidewalk
+
Sunday morning coming down
+
