Sunday Morning Coming 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 dessert
 Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
 And found my cleanest dirty shirt
 And I washed my face and combed my hair
 And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
 I'd smoked my brain the night before
 On cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'
 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 somethin'
 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
 There ain't nothin' short of dyin'
 Half as lonesome as the sound
 On the sleepin' city sidewalks
 Sunday mornin' comin' down
 In the park I saw a daddy
 With a laughin' little girl who he was swingin'
 And I stopped beside a Sunday school
 Listened to the song they were singin'
 Then I headed back for home
 And somewhere far away a lonesome bell was ringin'
 And it echoed through the canyons
 Like the disappearing dreams 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
 There ain't nothin' short of dyin'
 Half as lonesome as the sound
 On the sleepin' city sidewalks
 Sunday mornin' comin' down
 On the Sunday morning sidewalk
 Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
 'Cause there's something in a Sunday
 Makes your body feel alone
 There ain't nothin' short of dyin'
 Half as lonesome as the sound
 On the sleepin' city sidewalks
 Sunday mornin' comin' down