On a sunday morning sidewalk i'm 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 a sleepy city sidewalk sunday morning coming down
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 desert
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 stair to meet the day
i'd smoke my brain the night before with cigarettes and songs i'd been a picking
but i lit my first and watched the small kid cussin' at a can that he was kicking
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 somewhere somehow along the way
on a sunday morning sidewalk...
[ guitar ]
in the park i saw a daddy with the laughing little girl that he was swinging
and i stopped beside a sunday school and listened to the songs they were singing
then i headedback for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
and it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
on a sunday morning sidewalk...
coming down coming down coming down coming down