Sunday Morning Coming Down
Kris Kristofferson

C
Well I woke up Sunday morning
        F              G                C
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
                                        Am
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
                         G
So I had one more for dessert
       C                  C7                F
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
                             C      Am
And found my cleanest, dirty shirt
       F                   G
Then I washed my face, and combed my hair
    Dm                G                  C
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

C                      C7
I'd smoked my mind the night before
F                   G              C
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking
                                           Am
But I lit my first and watched a small kid playing
                         G
With the can that he was kicking
       C                 C7
Then I walked across the street
               F                                C      Am
And caught the Sunday smell of someone's frying chicken
            F                   G            Dm
And lord it took me back to something that I lost somewhere
G                 C
Somehow along the way

                    F
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
                             C
I'm wishing lord, that I was stoned
                             G
Cause there's something in a Sunday
                         C
That makes the body feel alone
                             F
And there's nothing short of dying
                               C
That's half as lonesome as the sound
                     G
Of the sleeping city sidewalks
                          C
And Sunday morning coming down

                    C7
In the park I saw a daddy
       F               G                C
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging

And I stopped beside a Sunday school
    Am                                   G
And listened to the songs that they were singing
       C               C7
Then I headed down the street
              F                              C    Am
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
       F                  G
And it echoed through the canyons
         Dm           G               C
Like our disappearing dreams of yesterday

                    F
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
                             C
I'm wishing lord, that I was stoned
                             G
Cause there's something in a Sunday
                         C
That makes the body feel alone
                             F
And there's nothing short of dying
                               C
That's half as lonesome as the sound
                     G
Of the sleeping city sidewalks
                          C
And Sunday morning coming down