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

it's the one I'm wearin'

and 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

or I smoked so much the night before

with cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin'

my mouth was like an ashtray I'd been lickin'

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



Chorus:

On the Sunday morning sidewalks

wishing Lord that I was stoned

'cause there is something in a Sunday

that makes a body feel alone

and there's nothin' short of dyin'

half as lonesome as the sound

on the sleepin' city side walks

Sunday mornin' comin' down





In the park I saw a daddy

with a laughing little girl who 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 thru the canyon like

the disappearing dreams of yesterday.



Chorus:

On the Sunday morning sidewalks

wishing Lord that I was stoned

'cause there is something in a Sunday

that makes a body feel alone

and there's nothin' short of dyin'

half as lonesome as the sound

on the sleepin' city s