Well I woke up Sunday mornin', with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
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And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, so I had one more, for dessert
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Then I fumbled through my closet, for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
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And I shaved my face and combed my hair and, stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
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I'd smoked my brain the night before on, cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'
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But I lit my first and watched a small kid cussin' at a can, that he was kickin'
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Then I crossed the empty street and caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
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And it took me back to somethin', that I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way
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On the Sunday morning sidewalks, wishin' Lord, that I was stoned
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'Cause there's something in a Sunday, makes a body feel alone
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And there's nothin' short of dyin', half as lonesome as the sound
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On the sleepin' city side walks, Sunday mornin' comin' down
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In the park I saw a daddy, with a laughing little girl who he was swingin'
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And I stopped beside a Sunday school and listened to the song that they were singin'
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Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
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And it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
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On the Sunday morning sidewalks, wishin' Lord, that I was stoned
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'Cause there's something in a Sunday, makes a body feel alone
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And there's nothin' short of dyin', half as lonesome as the sound
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On the sleepin' city side walks, Sunday mornin' comin' down
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Sunday Morning Coming Down
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| Randy Travis |
