I woke up Sunday morning,
no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast
so I had one more for dessert
Then I fumbled through the closet,
and found my cleanest, dirtiest shirt
Then I shaved my face and
stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
I smoked my brain the night before
But I lit my first and watched
At a can that he was kickin'
Then I crossed the empty street
and caught the Sunday smell
of someone frying chicken
And it took me back to something that I'd
lost somehow somewhere along the way
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing, that I was stoned
Cause there's something in a Sunday
Makes the body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dyin'
Half as lonesome as the sound
I was sleepin' city sidewalk
Sunday mornin' comin' down
In the park I saw a lady with
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And I headed back for home, far away,
a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons,
like a disappearing dream of yesterday
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was stoned
Cause there's something in a Sunday
Makes the 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
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was stoned
Cause there's something in a Sunday
4.8
