Johnny Cash - Sunday morning coming down

^GWell I woke up Sunday morning with no ^Cway to hold my ^Dhead that didn't ^Ghurt and the beer I had for breakfast wasn't ^Embad so I had one more for des-^Dsert then I ^Gfumbled in my close^G7t through my cloth^Ces and found my cleanest, dirty^G shirt ^Em then I ^Cwashed my face, and ^Dcombed my hair ^Cand stumbled down the ^Dstairs to meet the day

^GI'd smoked my mind the ^G7night before ^Cwith cigarettes and ^Dsongs I'd been ^Gpicking but I lit my first and watched a small kid^Em playing with the can that he was ^Dkicking then I ^Gwalked across the ^G7street and caught the ^CSunday smell of someone's ^Gfrying chicken ^Em and lord it ^Ctook me back to some-^Dthin that I ^Amlost somewhere ^Dsomehow along the ^Gway

on a Sunday morning ^Csidewalk I'm wishing lord, that I was ^Gstoned cause there's something in a ^DSunday that makes the body feel ^Galone and there's nothing short of ^Cdying that's half as lonesome as the ^Gsound of the sleeping city ^Dsidewalks and Sunday morning coming ^Gdown

in the park I saw a ^G7daddy with a ^Claughing little ^Dgirl that he was ^Gswinging

and ^Emlistened to the songs that they were ^Dsinging then I ^Gheaded down the ^G7street and somewhere ^Cfar away a lonely bell was ring - ^Ging ^Em and it ^Cechoed through the ^Dcanyons like our ^Amdisappearing ^Ddreams of yester - ^Gday