Sunday Morning Coming Down
Johnny CashVersion1
90
Chords in this song
Strum
D-DU-UDU
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
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Readable chord sheet for Sunday Morning Coming Down by Johnny Cash
W[C]ell, I woke up Sunday morning With no w[F]ay to hold my h[G]ead that didn't [C]hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't [Am]bad, So I had one more for dess[G]ert. Then I f[C]umbled in my closet through my cl[F]othes And found my cleanest dirty s[C]hirt.[Am] Then I w[F]ashed my face and c[G]ombed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day. I'd sm[C]oked my mind the night before With c[F]igarettes and [G]songs I'd been p[C]icking. But I lit my first and watched a small kid[Am] Playing with a can that he was [G]kicking. Then I w[C]alked across the street And caught the [F]Sunday smell of someone frying c[C]hicken[Am]. And Lord, it [F]took me back to somet[G]hing that I'd lost Somewhere, somehow along the [C]way. On a Sunday morning s[F]idewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was s[C]toned. 'Cause there's something in a [G]Sunday That makes a body feel a[C]lone. And there's nothing short a' [F]dying That's half as lonesome as the [C]sound Of the sleeping city s[G]idewalk And Sunday morning coming [C]down. In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing little girl that he was swinging. And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singing. Then I headed down the street, And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing, And it echoed through the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday. On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 'Cause there's something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down.