Sunday Morning Coming Down

<p>Well I woke up Sunday morning<br/>With no way to hold my head, that didn&#39;t hurt<br/>And the beer I had for breakfast wasn&#39;t bad,<br/>So I had one more for dessert.<br/>Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes<br/>And found my cleanest dirty shirt.<br/>Then I washed my face and combed my hair<br/>And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.</p><p>I&#39;d smoked my mind the night before<br/>With cigarettes and the songs I&#39;d been pickin&#39;<br/>But I lit my first and watched a small kid<br/>Playin&#39; with a can that he was kicking<br/>Then I walked across the street<br/>And caught the Sunday smell of someone&#39;s fryin&#39; chicken<br/>And it took me back to somethin&#39;<br/>That I&#39;d lost somewhere, somehow along the way.</p><p>On a Sunday morning sidewalk<br/>I&#39;m wishing Lord that I was stoned<br/>&#39;Cause there&#39;s something in a Sunday<br/>That makes a body feel alone.<br/>And there&#39;s nothin&#39; short of dyin&#39;<br/>That&#39;s half as lonesome as the sound<br/>Of a sleepin&#39; city sidewalk<br/>And Sunday mornin&#39; comin&#39; down.</p><p>In the park I saw a daddy<br/>With a laughin&#39; little girl who he was swingin&#39;<br/>And I stopped beside a Sunday school<br/>And listened to the songs they were singin&#39;<br/>Then I headed down the street<br/>And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin&#39;<br/>And it echoed thru the canyon <br/>Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday</p><p>On a Sunday morning sidewalk<br/>I&#39;m wishing Lord that I was stoned<br/>&#39;Cause there&#39;s something in a Sunday<br/>That makes a body feel alone.<br/>And there&#39;s nothin&#39; short of dyin&#39;<br/>That&#39;s half as lonesome as the sound<br/>Of a sleepin&#39; city sidewalk<br/>And Sunday mornin&#39; comin&#39; down.</p>