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

Through 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

Well I smokes my mind the night before

with cigarettes and songs that I'd been a'pickin'

Then I lit my first and watched a small boy

Cussin' at a can that he was kicking

Then I crossed the empty street

and caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken

And it took me back to something

that I lost somewhere somehow along the way

On a Sunday morning sidewalk

Wishing Lord that I was home

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

Of a sleeping city sidewalk

Sunday morning coming down

In the park I see a daddy

With a laughing little girl that he was a'swinging

And I stopped beside a Sunday school

And listened to the songs that they were singing

Then I headed back for home

And somewhere for away a lonely bell was ringing

And it echoed through the canyon

Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

Repeat chorus...