Waylon Jennings — Sunday Morning Coming Down

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Song: Sunday Morning Comin' Down
Artist: Waylon Jennings
Album: The Taker/Tulsa (1971)

[Intro]

C

[Verse]

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

[Verse]

    C
I'd smoked my brain the night before
     F                             C
With cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin'
C                                    Am
Lit my first and stood and watched a small kid
                        G
Cuss a can that he were kicking
C
Started across the street
               F                              C        Am
And caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
       F
And it brought me back to something that I'd lost
               G             C
Somewhere, somehow along the way

[Chorus]

                      F
On the Sunday morning sidewalk
                          C
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
                              G
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
                  C
Makes a body feel alone
                             F
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
                        C
Half as lonesome as the sound
                     G
On the sleeping city sidewalks
                      C      G   C
Sunday morning coming down

[Verse]

       C
In the park I saw a daddy
       F                                C
With a laughin' little girl that he was swinging
      C
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
    Am                                  G
And listened to the song that they were singing
C
Started back for home
              F                          C        AM
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
       F
And it echoed through the canyons
                      G         C
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

[Chorus]

                      F
On the Sunday morning sidewalk
                          C
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
                              G
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
                  C
Makes a body feel alone
                             F
And there's nothin' short of dyin'
                        C
Half as lonesome as the sound
                     G
On the sleeping city sidewalks
                      C      G   C
Sunday morning coming down

[Outro]
                     G
On the sleepin' city sidewalks
                      C     G   C
Sunday morning coming down		
    

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