Sunday Morning Coming Down

(album: Love Their Country - 2006)

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 through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
And I washed my face and combed my hair
Stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs that I'd been picking
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking
And I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone's fried chicken
And it took me back to something
That I'd lost somewhere, somehow along the way

On the Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalks
And Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging
And I stopped behind a Sunday school
And listened to the songs that they were singing
I headed down the street
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
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down