Sunday Morning Coming Down

G Well, I woke up Sunday morning C D G with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt G Em and the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad D so I had one more for dessert G G7 C then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes G Em and found my cleanest, dirty shirt C D then I washed my face, and combed my hair C D and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day G G7 I'd smoked my mind the night before C D G with cigarettes and songs I'd been picking G Em but I lit my first and watched a small kid D playing with a can that he was kicking G G7 then I walked across the street C G Em and caught the Sunday smell of someone's frying chicken C D Am and Lord it took me back to somethin' that I lost somewhere D G somehow along the way C on a Sunday morning sidewalk G I'm wishing Lord, that I was stoned D cause there's something in a Sunday G that makes the body feel alone C and there's nothing short of dying G that's half as lonesome as the sound D of the sleeping city sidewalks G and Sunday morning coming down G G7 in the park I saw a daddy C D G with a laughing little girl that he was swinging G and I stopped beside a Sunday school Em D and listened to the songs they were singing G G7 then I headed down the street C G Em and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing C D and it echoed through the canyons Am D G like our disappearing dreams of yesterday C on a Sunday morning sidewalk G I'm wishing Lord, that I was stoned D cause there's something in a Sunday G that makes the body feel alone C and there's nothing short of dying G that's half as lonesome as the sound D of the sleeping city sidewalks G and Sunday morning coming down