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 songs i d been picking but i lit my first and watched a small kid playing with a can that he was kicking then i walked across the street and caught the sunday smell of someone frying chicken and lord it took me back to something 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 nothing short a dying that s half as lonesome as the sound of the sleeping city sidewalk and 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 down the street and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing and it echoed through the canyon 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 that makes a body feel alone and there s nothing short a dying that s half as lonesome as the sound of the sleeping city sidewalk and sunday morning coming down