Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that it 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
And I shaved my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
Well, I`d smoked my brain the night before
With cigarettes and songs that I'd been a-pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin' at a can that he was kickin'
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
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stone
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there ain't nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughin' little girl that he was swingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs that they were singin'
Then I headed back for home
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyon
Like a disappearin' dream of yesterday