“On a Sunday morning sidewalk
“On a Sunday morning sidewalkI"m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
I"m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned"Cause there"s something in a Sunday
"Cause there"s something in a SundayThat makes a body feel alone
That makes a body feel aloneAnd there"s nothing short a" dying
And there"s nothing short a" dyingThat"s half as lonesome as the sound
That"s half as lonesome as the soundOf the sleeping city sidewalk
Of the sleeping city sidewalkAnd Sunday morning coming down…”
And Sunday morning coming down…”Filmy sunlight washed over Roderick as the chorus from the Kris Kristofferson song played in his head. It was nearly 9:30 and he was still in bed, wearing a Y-shirt and boxers—no memory of how he’d gotten there. His damaged ankle again rested on a short stack of p
