Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

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

          A 
I'd smoked my brain the night before, 
             D                      E                                A 
On cigarettes and songs, so I'd been picking. 
         A 
But I lit my first and watched a small kid, 
 F#m                                                    E 
Cussing at a can that he was kicking. 
                 A    
Then I crossed the empty street, 
                               D                                                      A                  F#m 
caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken. 
                D                             E 
And it took me back to something, 
                D                            E                                     A  
That I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way. 

              A7                              D   
On the Sunday morning sidewalk, 
                                                   A 
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 
                                                           E 
'Cause there's something in a Sunday, 
              E7                   A 
Makes a body feel alone. 
                    A7                             D 
And there's nothing short of dying, 
                                                   A 
Half as lonesome as the sound, 
                                        E 
On the sleeping city sidewalks: 
                  E7                           A 
Sunday morning coming down. 

          A 
In the park I saw a daddy, 
                      D                E                             A 
With a laughing little girl who he was swinging. 
           A 
And I stopped beside a Sunday school, 
        F#m                                                      E 
And listened to the song they were singing. 
           A 
Then I headed back for home, 
             D                                                                      A                 F#m 
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing. 
               D                                      E 
And it echoed through the canyons, 
                        D                     E                        A 
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday. 

                       A7                      D 
On the Sunday morning sidewalk, 
                                                  A 
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 
                                                            E 
'Cause there's something in a Sunday, 
            E7                       A 
Makes a body feel alone. 
                  A7                                D 
And there's nothing short of dying, 
                                                  A 
Half as lonesome as the sound, 
                                          E 
On the sleeping city sidewalks: 
                  E7                           A 
Sunday morning coming down. 

(fading) 
                A7                  D 
Do do do do do do do do, 
                                    A 
Do do do do do do do, 
                                         E 
Do do do do do do do do, 
             E7                  A 
Do do do do do do do.