SUNDAY MORNING COMIN' DOWN

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 desert
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stair to meet the day

I'd smoke my brain the night before with cigarettes and songs that I've been picking
But I lit my first and watched a small kid cussin' at a can that he was kicking
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 makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with a laughing little girl he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school and listened to the songs that they were singing
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons like a disappearing dream of yesterday

On the Sunday morning sidewalk wishing Lord that I was stoned
Cause there's something in a Sunday makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down