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
  it's the one I'm wearin'
  and I shaved my face and combed my hair
  and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
  
  I'd smoked my brain the night before
  or:I smoked so much the night before
  with cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin'
  my mouth was like an ashtray I'd been lickin'
  but I lit my first and watched a small kid
  cussin' at a can that he was kicking
  then I crossed the empty street
  and caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
  and it took me back to somethin'
  that I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way
  
  Chorus: On the Sunday morning sidewalks
  wishing Lord that I was stoned
  'cause there is something in a Sunday
  that makes a body feel alone
  and there's nothin' short of dyin'
  half as lonesome as the sound
  on the sleepin' city side walks
  Sunday mornin' comin' down
  
  
  In the park I saw a daddy
  with a laughing little girl who he was swingin'
  and I stopped beside a Sunday school
  and listened to the song that they were singin'
  then I headed back for home and
  somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
  and it echoed thru the canyon like
  the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
  
  Chorus: On the Sunday morning sidewalks
  wishing Lord that I was stoned
  'cause there is something in a Sunday
  that makes a body feel alone
  and there's nothin' short of dyin'
  half as lonesome as the sound
  on the sleepin' city side walks
  Sunday mornin' comin' down.