Sunday Morning Coming Down — текст песни (Roy Drusky)

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 desert
I fumbled in my closet for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
And I shaved my face and combed my hair stumbled down the stair to meet the day
Well I`d smoke my brain the night before with cigarettes and songs I`d been a picking
But I lit my first and watched the small kid cussin` at a can that he was kicking
Then I crossed the 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 makes a body feel alone
And there`s nothing sure to dying that`s half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk and Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with the laughin` little girl that he was swinging
And I stopped beside the Sunday school and listened to the songs they were singing
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
On the Sunday morning sidewalk...