Okay, well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head, it didn't hurtAnd the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, so I had one more for dessertThen I fumbled through my closet for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirtThen I washed my face and combed my hair and stumbled down the stairs to meet the dayI'd smoke my brain the night before on cigarettesAnd songs that I'd been pickingBut I lit my first and washed a small kidCousin had a can that he was kickingThen I crossed the empty street and caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chickenThen I fumbled through my closet for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirtAnd it took me back to something that I'd lost somehow somewhere along the wayOn the Sunday morning sidewalkWishing the Lord that I was stonedOh, there's something in a SundayYeahMakes a body feel aloneThere ain't nothing sure to dieHalf as lonesome as the soundOf the sleeping city soundSunday morning coming downIn the park I saw daddyWith a laughing little girlAnd we were swingingAnd I stopped beside a Sunday schoolAnd listened to the musicThe song that they were singingThen I headed back for homeAnd somewhere far awayA lonesome bell was ringingAnd it echoed through the canyonLike the disappearing dreamsOf yesterdayOn the Sunday morning sidewalkWishing the Lord that I was stonedCause there's something in a SundayMakes a body feel aloneThere ain't nothing sure to dieHalf as lonesome as the soundOf the sleeping city soundSunday morning coming downThank you!Subtitles by the Amara.org community