Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down (Live at the Philharmonic)

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

An' I shaved my face and combed my hair

An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

I'd smoked my brain the night before

On cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin

But I lit my first and watched a small kid

Cussin' at a can that he was kicking

Then I crossed the empty street

'N caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken

And it took me back to somethin'

That I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way

On the Sunday morning sidewalk

Wishing Lord that I was stoned

'Cos there's something in a Sunday

Makes a body feel alone

And there's nothin' short of dyin

Half as lonesome as the sound

On the sleepin' city sidewalks

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 song they were singin

Then I headed back for home

And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin

And it echoed through the canyons

Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

On the Sunday morning sidewalk

Wishing Lord that I was stoned

'Cos there's something in a Sunday

Makes a body feel alone

And there's nothin' short of dyin

Half as lonesome as the sound

On the sleepin' city sidewalks

Sunday mornin' comin' down

Do do do do do do do do

Do do do do do do do

Do do do do do do do do

Do do do do do do do