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. Then I washed my face and combed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.   I'd smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and the songs I'd been pickin' But I lit my first and watched a small kid Playin' with a can that he was kicking Then I walked across the street And caught the Sunday smell of someone's fryin' chicken And it took me back to somethin' That I'd lost somewhere, somehow along the way.   On a 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 nothin' short of dyin' That's half as lonesome as the sound Of a sleepin' city sidewalk And Sunday mornin' comin' down.   In the park I saw a daddy With a laughin' little girl who he was swingin' And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singin' Then I headed down the street And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin' And it echoed thru the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.