Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down (Live)

Well, I woke up Sunday mornin'
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 washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

I'd smoke my brain the night before
On cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin' at the can that he's 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 the Sunday mornin' sidewalk wishin', Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday makes a body feel alone
And there ain't nothin' sure to, dyin' half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin' city sidewalk, Sunday mornin' comin' down

In the park I saw a daddy
With the laughin' little girl, 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 through the canyons
Like the disappearin' dreams of yesterday

On the Sunday mornin' sidewalk wishin', Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday makes a body feel alone
And there's nothin' sure to dyin', half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin' city sidewalk, Sunday mornin' comin' down