Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well, I woke up Sunday mornin' 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 desert.
 Then I fumbled through my closet to my clothes
 And found my cleanest dirty shirt
 And I shaved my face and combed my hair
 Stumbled down the stair to meet the day.
 Well, I'd smoke my mind the night before
 With cigarettes and songs that I'd been picking
 But I lit my first and watched the small kid
 Cussing the 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 somethin'
 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
 Makes a body feel alone.
 And there's nothing sure to dying
 Half as lonesome as the sound
 On the sleeping city sidewalk
 And Sunday morning coming down.
 In the park I saw a daddy
 With the laughin' little girl that he was swinging
 Then I stopped beside a Sunday school
 Listened to the songs they were singing.
 I headed back for home and somewhere far away
 A lonely bell was ringing
 And it echoed through the canyons
 Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
 On the Sunday morning sidewalk
 Wishing Lord, that I was stoned
 'Cause there's something in a Sunday
 Makes a body feel alone...