Sunday morning, the dogs are barking; drives me from my bed.
The neighbor’s hen has flown in my yard; and now she’s lying dead.
But the coming sun is casting beauty, dancing through my head;
And it feels so good just to be alive, I’m so glad I’m not a hen.

Sunday morning, Sunday morning I feel good today.
Blues skies and birdies fly my way.
Beauty dance me through the day.
Sun send me your warming rays.
I feel good today.

Down the street, just last week;
My best friend she moved out.
Said her old man had a mean streak:
Alphie what’s it all about?
I don’t have no Bo to mess with
Guess I’m blessed with what I got;
Sunday morning over easy, coffee sweet and hot.

Sunday morning, Sunday morning I feel good today.
Blues skies and birdies fly my way.
Beauty dance me through the day.
Sun send me your warming rays.
I feel good today.

The peso is slipping, the Press he is tripping,
Over his own feet.
Drug Lords they are winning, Computers are spinning,
Passwords to infinity
But Sunday morning, I’ll play some cords
And find some inner peace.
Serenity in simplicity of Sunday morning routine.

Sunday morning, Sunday morning I feel good today.
Blues skies and birdies fly my way.
Beauty dance me through the day.
Sun send me your warming rays.
I feel good today.
I feel good today.

Words & music by Tricia Henning