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 for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
I shaved my face and combed my hair
Stumbled down the stair to meet the day
Well I'd smoke my mind the night before with cigarettes and songs I'd been a picking
And I lit my first and watched the small kid cussing at a can that he was kicking
Then I crossed the empty street and caught
The Sunday smell of someone frying chicken
And it took me back to something I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way
On a Sunday morning sidewalk I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned
Cause there's something in a Sunday makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying that's half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleepy city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down
In the park I saw a daddy with a laughing little girl that he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school and listened to the songs 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 a Sunday morning sidewalk I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned
Cause there's something in a Sunday makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying that's half as lonesome as the sound
On a sleepy city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down
WRITERS
Kris Kristofferson
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O DistroKid
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