CAPO-2
       G
Well I woke up Sunday morning
   C              D7               G
no way to hold my head that didn't hurt

and the beer I had for breakfast
       Em                          D
wasn't bad so I had one more for dessert
       G
Than I fumble through my closet for my
C                                   G   G/F# Em
clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
      C                  Am
and I washed my face and combed my hair
    C                 D                  G
and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

    G
I'd smoked my brain the night before
     C              D7                   G
with cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin'

but I lit my first and watched a small kid
Em                           D
cussin' at a can that he was kicking
       G
Then I crossed the empty street and caught the
C                              G      G/F# Em
sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
       C               Am
and it took me back to somethin' that
    C            D                   G
I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way

                      C
On the Sunday mornin' sidewalks
                        G
wishing Lord that I was stoned
                               D
'cause there is something in a Sunday
                        G
that makes a body feel alone
                             C
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
                        G
half as lonesome as the sound
                     D
on the sleepin' city sidewalks
                      G
Sunday mornin' comin' down

       G
In the park I saw a daddy with
  C               D7              G
a laughing little girl who he was swingin'

and I stopped beside a sunday school and
Em                                  D
listened to the song that they were singin
       G
Then I headed back for home and somewhere
C                            G     G/F# Em
far away a lonesome bell was ringin'
       C               Am
and it echoed thru the canyon like
    C            D               G
the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

                         C
On the Sunday mornin' sidewalks
                        G
wishing Lord that I was stoned
                               D
'cause there is something in a Sunday
                       G
that makes a body feel alone
                             C
There aint nothin' short of dyin'
                        G
half as lonesome as the sound
                     D
on the sleepin' city sidewalks
                      G
Sunday mornin' comin' down