Sunday morning comming down

	  		Well , I (C)woke up Sunday morning,
with no (F)way to hold my head, that didn«t (C)hurt   
and the (C)beer i had for breakfast,
wasn«t (Am)bad, so I had one more for des-(G)-sert (G7)   
than I (C)fumbled through my closet,
for my (F)clothes, found my cleanest, dirty (C)shirt (Am)
than I (G)washed my face and combed my hair,
(G7)stumbled down the stairs to meet the (C)day.
  
  
2.   
Well I smoked my brain the night before ,   
with cigarets and songs that we been picking   
And I lit my first and stopped to watch ,   
a small kid with a can that he was kicking   
Than I crossed an empty street ,   
and caught the Sunday-smell of someone«s frying chicken   
and it took me back to something ,   
that I lost somewhere somehow along the way   
  
On a Sunday morning (F)sidewalk,
wishing Lord that I was (C)stoned   
Cause there is something in a (G7)Sunday,
that makes somebody feel a-(C)-lone   
And there's nothing short of (F)dieing,
half as lone some as the (C)sound
of a sleeping city (G)sidewalk,
(G7)when Sunday morning coming (C)down

  
3.   
In a park I saw a Daddy ,   
with a laughing little girl he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
and listened to the songs that they were singing   
Than I hadded back for home ,   
and some whrer far away a lonely bell was ringing   
And it echoed to the canyons ,   
like the dissapearing dreames of yesterday