Testo Sunday Morning Blues

I caught you across the room last night in that little black dress
I fell into whiskey and I wound up a mess
Thought I'd moved on, but I was wrong, I guess
I've got the Sunday morning blues
That old coffee pot has given up on me
These Jack Daniel eyes are too bloodshot to see
The worn-out ceiling fan's hummin' "Oh, Lonesome Me"
I've got the Sunday morning blues Church bells ringin', choir singin'
When the roll is called up yonder, I'll be there
Sun shinin', fish are bitin'
But I'm still in my underwear
The neighbors and the bookies are waitin' on football
This California king feels like my back's to the wall
I'd be waitin' around forever if I was waitin' on your call
I've got the Sunday morning blues
Church bells ringin', choir singin'
Just as I am
I gotta get goin', get these old wheels rollin'
But the blues, they don't give a damn
I step out for a cigarette to clear my head
And try not to think about them old words in red
So I just pop the top off another one instead I've got the Sunday morning blues
I got the Sunday morning blues