Sunday Morning Coming Down — текст песни (Lynn Anderson)

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
Then I fumbled in my closet to my clothes and found my cleanest dirty skirt
And I washed my face and combed my hair stumbled down the stair to greed the day
I`d smoke my mind the night before with cigarettes and songs I`ve been a picking
But I lit my first and watched the small kid cursin` at a can that he was kicking
Then I crossed the empty street and caught
The Sunday smell of someone frying chicken
And it took me back to something that I`d lost somewhere somehow 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 half as lonely as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down

In the park I saw a daddy with the laughing little girl that he was swinging
And I stopped beside a 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 canyon like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
On the Sunday morning sidewalk...