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 dessert
and 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 smoke my brain the night before
on cigarettes and songs
that I'd been picking
but lit my first and watched a small kid
cussing at a can that he was kicking
then I crossed the empty streets 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 the Sunday morning sidewalk
wishing lord that I was stoned
'cause there's somthing 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 sown
in the park I saw a Daddy
with a laughing little girl
he was swinging
and I stopped beside
the Sunday school
and listened to the song
that they were singing
then I headed back far away
a lonely bell was ringing
and it echoed throught the
canyon like
the disappearing dreams
of yesterday
on the Sunday morning sidewalk
wishing lord that I was stoned
'cause there's somwthins in a Sunday
that makes a body feel alone
and there's nothing short of duing
half as lonesome as a sound
on the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down
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