Sunday Morning Coming Down - Live at Ryman Auditorium, Nashville, TN - July 1970

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
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 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 the songs I'd been pickin'
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 But I lit my first and watched a small kid
 Playin' with a can that he was kicking
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 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 the sleepin' city sidewalk
 And Sunday mornin' comin' down
 
 In the park I saw a daddy
 With a laughin' little girl that he was swingin'
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 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'
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 And it echoed through the canyon
 Like the disappearin' 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