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 dessert then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt it's the one I'm wearin' and I shaved my face and combed my hair and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
I'd smoked my brain the night before or I smoked so much the night before with cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin' my mouth was like an ashtray I'd been lickin' but I lit my first and watched a 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 somethin' that I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way
Chorus: On the Sunday morning sidewalks wishing Lord that I was stoned 'cause there is something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone and there's nothin' short of dyin' half as lonesome as the sound on the sleepin' city side walks Sunday mornin' comin' down
In the park I saw a daddy with a laughing little girl who he was swingin' and I stopped beside a Sunday school and listened to the song that they were singin' then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin' and it echoed thru the canyon like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
Chorus: On the Sunday morning sidewalks wishing Lord that I was stoned 'cause there is something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone and there's nothin' short of dyin' half as lonesome as the sound on the sleepin' city side walks Sunday mornin' comin' down.