Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didnt hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasnt 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
Id smoked my brain the night before on
Cigarettes and songs that Id 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 Id lost somehow, somewhere along the way
On the Sunday morning sidewalks
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
Cause theres something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
And theres 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 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 sidewalks
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
Cause theres something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone
And theres nothin short of dyin
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin city sidewalks
Sunday mornin comin down