Sunday Mornin Comin Down

(álbum: Soul's Core - 1998)

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 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

I'd smoked my brain, night before
Cigarettes and songs
That I've been picking
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussing at a can that he was kicking
Then I crossed the empty street
Caught the Sunday smell
Of someone frying 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
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as a sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl
He was swinging
And I stopped beside the 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 Canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

On the Sunday morning sidewalk
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 a sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down

Du ru ru ru ru ru ru ru
Du ru ru ru ru ru ru
Du ru ru ru ru ru ru ru
(Ooh)
Du ru ru ru ru ru ru
Du ru ru ru ru ru ru ru
Du ru ru ru ru ru ru
(Hmm, yea)