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