Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down Floyd Westerman

[Verse 1]
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
So I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
Stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

[Verse 2]
I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and the songs I'd been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin' at a can that he was kickin'
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
It took me back to somethin'
I'd lost somewhere, somehow along the way

[Chorus]
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord I was stoned
Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down