Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down
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Lyrics
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
And then I fumbled through my closet
Through my clothes and found my cleanest, dirtiest shirt
Then I brushed my teeth and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
Well I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small boy cussin'
At a can that he was kickin'
Then I walked an empty street and smelled the Sunday smell
Of someone's fryin' chicken
And it took me back to some place
That I'd lost somewhere, somehow, along the way
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned
'Cause there's something in the Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swingin'
Then I stopped outside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs that they were singin'
And as I headed back for home
Somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, I was stoned
'Cause there's something in the Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down