Capo 1st fret


    Well, I wo

ke up Sunday m

ornin'
              
With no way to

             
 hold my head 

            
that didn't hu

                  
rt.

And the beer I had for breakfast
            
Wasn't bad, so

              
 I had one mor

              
e for des-sert

                
.
            
Then I fumbled

 in my closet
                                                                          
             
Through my clo

  
thes and found

 my cleanest d

irty shirt.
             
Then I washed 

              
my face and co

                
mbed my hair
           
And stumbled d

              
own the stairs

       
 to meet the d

ay.

      
I'd smoked my 

brains the nig

ht before
             
With cigarette

              
s and songs I'

            
d been pickin'

         
.

But I lit my first and watched a small kid
            
     Playin' w

              
ith a can that

              
 he was kickin

       
'.
            
Then I walked 

across the str

eet
                                                                     
              
And caught the

      
 Sunday smell 

of someone's f

ryin' chicken.
              
And, Lord, it 

             
took me back t

                   
o something
           
That I lost so

              
mewhere, someh

            
ow along the w

                   
ay.

              
On a Sunday mo

              
rnin' sidewalk

       
,
              
I'm wishin', l

              
ord, that I wa

                
s stoned.
              
'Cause there's

              
 something in 

                  
a Sunday
              
That makes a b

              
ody feel a-lon

             
e.
              
And there's no

              
thin' short of

                 
 dyin'
              
That's half as

              
 lonesome as t

                    
he sound
              
Of the sleepin

              
' city sidewal

   
ks
              
And Sunday mor

              
nin' comin' do

                  
wn.

          
In the park I 

saw a Daddy
             
With a laughin

              
' little girl 

            
that he was sw

           
ingin'.

And I stopped beside a Sunday school
            
And listened t

              
o the songs th

              
ey were singin

             
'.
            
Then I headed 

down the stree

ts
                                                                     
            
And somewhere 

far away a lon

ely bell was r

ingin',
                                                             
           
And it echoed 

            
through the ca

       
nyons like a d

isappearin' dr

eams of yes-te

rday.

              
On a Sunday mo

              
rnin' sidewalk

       
,
              
I'm wishin', l

              
ord, that I wa

                
s stoned.
              
'Cause there's

              
 something in 

                  
a Sunday
              
That makes a b

              
ody feel a-lon

             
e.
              
And there's no

              
thin' short of

                 
 dyin'
              
That's half as

              
 lonesome as t

                    
he sound
              
Of the sleepin

              
' city sidewal

   
ks
              
And Sunday mor

              
nin' comin' do

                  
wn.