W ell I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my h ead that didn't h urt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't ba d
So I had o ne more for des sert
Then I fumbled in my closet through my cl othes
And found my c leanest dirty s hirt
Then I w ashed my face and c ombed my hair
And s tumbled down the s tairs to meet the d ay
I smoked my mind the night before
With c igarettes and s ongs I'd been p icking
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Pl aying with a c an that he was k icking
Then I walked across the street and caught
The S unday smell of s omeone frying c hicken
Lord it t ook me back to s omething that
I l ost somewhere some how along the way
On a Sunday morning s idewalk
I'm wishing Lord that I was s toned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel a lone
And there's nothing short of d ying
That?s half as lonesome as the s ound
Of the sleeping city s idewalk
And Sunday morning coming d own
In the park I saw a daddy with a
La ughing little g irl that he was s winging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And l istened to the s ongs that they were s inging
Then I headed down the street and somewhere
Fa r away a l onely bell was r inging
And it e choed through the c anyon
Like d isappearing d reams of yester day
On a Sunday morning s idewalk
I'm wishing Lord that I was s toned
'Cause there's something in a S unday
That makes a body feel a lone
And there's nothing short of d ying
That?s half as lonesome as the so und
Of the sleeping city s idewalk
And Sunday morning coming d own.
