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 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,
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
I'd smoked my brain the night before on cigarettes and songs
That I'd been pickin'
But I lit my first, and watched a small kid cussin' at a can
That he was kickin'
Then I crossed the empty street and caught the Sunday smell
Of someone fryin'chickin
And it took me back to somethin' that I had lost somehow,
Somewhere along the way
[Chorus]
On the Sunday morning sidewalk, wishin' Lord that I was stoned
Cause there is something in a Sunday, makes a body feel alone
And there is nothing short of die'n, half a lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalks, Sunday morning coming down
In the park I saw a daddy,
With 'w(?)' laughin' little girl who he was swingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
And listened to a song that they were singin'
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away
A lonely bell was ringin'
And it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dreams
Of yesterday
[Chorus]
On the Sunday morning sidewalk, wishing Lord that I was stoned
Cause there is something in a Sunday, make a body feel alone
And there is nothing short of die'n, half a lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin' city sidewalks, Sunday morning coming do
Pickin' Time Lyrics performed by Kris Kristofferson are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Pickin' Time Lyrics performed by Kris Kristofferson is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD