Intro  A 
 
Well, I woke up Sunday morning 
        D              E                A 
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt 
        A                               F#m 
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad 
                      E 
So I had one more for dessert 
       A                               D 
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes 
                            A      F#m 
And found my cleanest dirty shirt 
       D                  E 
Then I washed my face and combed my hair 
 
Stumbled down the stairs to meet the day 
 
  A
I smoked my mind the night before
 D                    E                   A
With cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'
                                           F#m 
But I lit my first and watched a small boy 
                                   E
Cussin' at a can that he'd been kickin'
 A 
I crossed the empty street
 D                                         A       F#m
Caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
      D                 E       
And it took me back to somethin' that I'd lost
                              A 
Somewhere, somehow along the way 
 
A                       D 
    On a Sunday morning sidewalk 
                              A 
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stone 
                              E 
'Cause there's something in a Sunday 
                        A 
That makes a body feel alone 
                                 D 
And there ain't nothing short of dying 
                        A 
Half as lonesome as the sound 
                   E 
Of a sleeping city sidewalk 
                      A  
Sunday morning coming down 
 
 A
In the park I saw a daddy
      D                  E                  A 
With a laughin' little girl that he'd been swingin'
 A                                     F#m
And I stopped beside a Sunday school 
                                      E
Listened to the songs that they were singin'
A 
I headed down the road,
D                                     A       F#m 
Somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin' 
      D                    E
And it echoed through the canyon
                              A
Like a disappearin' dream of yesterday 

A                       D 
    On a Sunday morning sidewalk 
                              A 
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stone 
                              E 
'Cause there's something in a Sunday 
                        A 
That makes a body feel alone 
                                 D 
And there ain't nothing short of dying 
                        A 
Half as lonesome as the sound 
                   E 
Of a sleeping city sidewalk 
                      A  
Sunday morning coming down