Sunday Morning
Swiss Jazz Orchestra And Friends Lyrics

Well I woke up Sunday morning, With no way to hold my head, that didn't hurt
The singer woke up on Sunday morning feeling hungover and unable to relieve their headache.

And the beer I had for breakfast, Wasn't bad so I had one more, for dessert
The singer drank beer for breakfast and enjoyed it so much that they had another one as a treat.

Then I fumbled through my closet, For my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
The singer searched through their wardrobe for clothes to wear, settling on their least dirty shirt in an attempt to look presentable.

And I shaved my face and combed my hair, And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
The artist attempted to groom themselves, but still struggled to get moving for the day ahead.

I'd smoked my brain the night before on cigarettes and songs That I'd been pickin'
The artist spent the previous night smoking and playing music.

But I lit my first, and watched a small kid cussin' at a can That he was kickin'
The singer lit their first cigarette of the day and watched a child swearing at a can they were kicking.

Then I crossed the empty street and caught the Sunday smell Of someone fryin'chickin
The singer walked across a quiet street and smelled the aroma of someone cooking chicken.

And it took me back to somethin' that I had lost somehow, Somewhere along the way
The smell of the cooking chicken triggered a sense of nostalgia in the artist.

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
The artist reflects on the loneliness they feel on a quiet Sunday morning, wishing they were under the influence of drugs to ease the feeling. The silence of the city only amplifies their sense of isolation.

In the park I saw a daddy, With 'w(?)' laughin' little girl who he was swingin'
The artist observed a father playing with his daughter in the park.

And I stopped beside a Sunday school, And listened to a song that they were singin'
The singer paused next to a Sunday school and listened to the children singing.

Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away A lonely bell was ringin'
The artist began to walk back home and heard the distant sound of a bell tolling.

And it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dreams Of yesterday
The sound of the bell echoed through the singer's surroundings and reminded them of the fleeting nature of their memories.

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 down
The singer repeats the chorus, emphasizing the sense of loneliness and isolation they feel on a quiet Sunday morning.