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.