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 

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 

with cigarettes and songs 

that I've been pickin' 

but I lit my first and watched a small kid 

cussin' at a can that he was kickin 

then I crossed the empty street and 

caught the sunday smell 

of someone fryin chicken 

and it took me back to something 

that I'd lost somehow 

somewhere along the way 



on the sunday morning sidewalk 

wishing lord that I was stoned 

cause there's something in a sunday 

that makes a body feel alone 

and there's nothing short of dying 

half as lonesome as the sound 

on the sleeping city sidewalk 

sunday morning coming down 



in the park I saw a daddy 

with a laughing little girl 

he was swingin 

and I stopped beside the Sunday school 

and listened to the song 

that they were singing 

then I headed back for home 

and somewhere far away 

a lonely bell was ringing 

and it echoed thru the canyon like 

the disappearing dreams of yesterday 



on the sunday morning sidewalk 

wishing lord that I was stoned 

cause therels something in a sunday 

that makes a body feel alone 

and there's nothing short of dying 

half as lonesome as the sound 

on the sleeping city sidewalk 

sunday morning coming down