Sunday Mornin' Comin' 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 dessert Then I fumbled in 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 smoked my brain the night before With cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin' 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 something that 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 Makes a body feel alone And there's nothin' short of dyin' Half as lonesome as the sound On the sleeping city sidewalks Sunday morning coming down In the park I saw a daddy With a laughin' little girl who he was swinging And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the song that 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 Makes a body feel alone And there's nothin' short of dyin' Half as lonesome as the sound On the sleepin' city sidewalks Sunday morning coming down --- Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down - Kris Kristofferson