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 shaved 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've been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched the small kid cussin' at the 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
Makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalks
Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with the laughin' little girl that he was swingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday school and listened to the song that they were singin'
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely 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
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalks
Sunday morning coming down

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