Sunday Mornin Comin Down

A                                  
Well I woke up Sunday mornin'', no 
D                               A
way to hold my head that didn''t 
hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast 
       F#m                         
wasn''t bad, so I had one more for 
 E
desert
A                                 
Then I fumbled through my closet 
        D                  
and my clothes and found my 
                  A   F#m
cleanest, dirty shirt
D                          Bm    
Then I washed my face and combed 
my hair and stumbled down the stairs
              E
 to meet the day

    A                              
I smoked my brain the night before,
      D                            
 on cigarettes and songs I''d been 
A
pickin''
I lit my first and watched a small 
      F#m                       
kid, Cussin at a can that he was 
   E
kickin''
        A                          
And I crossed the empty street and 
             D                     
caught the Sunday smell of someones
           A    F#m
 fryin'' chicken
        D               Bm        
And it took me back to something, 
        D              E          
that I lost somehow, somewhere 
        A
along the way.

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A                     D     
On a Sunday mornin'' sidewalk, 
                            A
wishin'' Lord that I was stoned
                               E
''Cause there''s somethin'' in a 
                          A
Sunday, makes a body feel alone
                              D    
There aint nothin'' short of 
                          A
dyin'', half as lonesome as the 
sound
                     E             
On a sleepin'' city sidewalk, 
                 A
Sunday mornin'' comin'' down

A                                 
In the park I saw a daddy, with a 
  D                               
laughin'' little girl that he was 
A
swingin''
Then I stopped beside a Sunday 
         F#m                    
school, listen to the songs they 
       E
were singin''
         A                     
Then I headed back for home and 
            D                      
somewhere far away a lonesome bell 
      A     F#m
was ringin''
         D                 Bm     
And it echoed through the canyon, 
           D             E        
Like the disappearing'' dreams of 
  A
yesterday

A                     D     
On a Sunday mornin'' sidewalk, 
                            A
wishin'' Lord that I was stoned
                               E
''Cause there''s somethin'' in a 
                          A
Sunday, makes a body feel alone
                              D    
There aint nothin'' short of 
                          A
dyin'', half as lonesome as the 
sound
                     E             
On a sleepin'' city sidewalk, 
                 A
Sunday mornin'' comin'' down

A                     D     
On a Sunday mornin'' sidewalk, 
                            A
wishin'' Lord that I was stoned
                               E
''Cause there''s somethin'' in a 
                          A
Sunday, makes a body feel alone
                              D    
There aint nothin'' short of 
                          A
dyin'', half as lonesome as the 
sound
                     E             
On a sleepin'' city sidewalk, 
                 A
Sunday mornin'' comin'' down