Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down - Mark Chesnutt Lyrics
Sunday Mornin' Comin' 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 wouldn'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
Well, I'd smoked my brain the night before
On cigarettes and songs I'd been picking
But I lit my first and watched a small boy
Cussin' at a can that he was kicking
And I crossed the empty street
Caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm 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
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleeping city sidewalk
A Sunday mornin' comin' down
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl, he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs that they were singing
Then I headed back for home
And somewhere far away a bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Lord, I'm wishing I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there's nothing short of dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down