david allan coe
sunday morning coming down
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 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 With cigarettes and songs That I've been pickin' But I lit my first and watched a small kid Cussin' at a can that he was kickin  Then I crossed the empty street and Caught the sunday smell Of someone fryin chicken And it took me back to something That I'd lost somehow Somewhere along the way  On the sunday morning sidewalk Wishing lord that I was stoned Cause there's something in a sunday That makes a body feel alone And there's nothing short of dying Half as lonesome as the sound On the sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down  In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing little girl He was swingin And I stopped beside the Sunday school And listened to the song That they were singing  Then I headed back for home And somewhere far away A lonely bell was ringing And it echoed thru the canyon like The disappearing dreams of yesterday  On the sunday morning sidewalk Wishing lord that I was stoned Cause therels something in a sunday That makes a body feel alone And there's nothing short of dying Half as lonesome as the sound On the sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down 