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 dessertThen I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
Stumbled down the stairs to meet the dayI'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 kid
Playing with a can that he was kickingThen I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
And oh it took me back to somethin'
That I'd lost somewhere, somehow along the wayOn a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel aloneAnd there ain't nothin' short of dyin'
As half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornings coming downIn the park, I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl who he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs that they were singingThen I headed down the streets
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterdayOn a Sunday morning sidewalk
Oh, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That'll make a body feel aloneAnd there ain't nothin' short of dyin'
Thats half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down