Sunday Morning Coming Down by Martin Carthy

  • Sunday Morning Coming Down
  • From the album Sunday Morning Coming Down
  • © 1999 DCC
  • Categories: Country, Classic Country
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Well, I woke up Sunday mornin'
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 in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and the songs I'd been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playin' with a can that he was kickin'

Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someones fryin' chicken
And Lord, it took me back to somethin'
That I'd lost somewhere, somehow along the way

On a Sunday mornin' sidewalk
I'm wishin' Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone

And there's nothin' short of dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughin' little girl that he was swingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singin'

Then I headed down the streets
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearin' dreams of yesterday

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I'm wishin' Lord, that I was stoned
'Cause there's somethin' in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone

And there's nothin' short of dyin'
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of a sleepin' city sidewalk
And Sunday mornin' comin' down

© COMBINE MUSIC CORPORATION

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