Lyrics

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 to my clothes And found my cleanest dirty shirt Then I washed my face and combed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to greet the day Well, I'd smoke my brain the night before With cigarettes and songs that I'd been picking But I lit my first and watched the small kid Cursin' at a can that he was kicking Then across the empty street I caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken And it took me back to something 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 that makes a body feel alone And there's nothing sure to dying half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk and Sunday morning coming down In the park, I saw a daddy With the laughing little girl he was swinging And then I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the song they were singing Then 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 that makes a body feel alone And there's nothing sure to dying half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk and Sunday morning coming down On the sleeping city sidewalk, Sunday morning coming down
Writer(s): Kris Kristofferson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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