Cifras
Sunday Mornin Comin Down

Tom: A

Introdução:

dificuldade
muito fácil |||||
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Well, I woke up Sunday morning,
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With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt,
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And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
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So I had one more for dessert,
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Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes,
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And found my cleanest dirty shirt,
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Then I washed my face and combed my hair,
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And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day,
I smoked my mind the night before,
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With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking,
But I lit my first and watched a small kid,
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Playing with a can that he was kicking,
Then I walked across the street and caught,
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The Sunday smell of someone frying chicken,
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Lord it took me back to something that,
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I lost somewhere, somehow along the way,
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On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
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I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned,
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'Cause there's something in a Sunday,
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That makes a body feel alone,
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And there's nothing short of dying,
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That?s half as lonesome as the sound,
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Of the sleeping city sidewalk,
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And Sunday morning coming down,
In the park I saw a daddy with a,
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Laughing little girl that he was swinging,
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
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And listened to the songs that they were singing,
Then I headed down the street and somewhere,
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Far away a lonely bell was ringing,
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And it echoed through the canyon,
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Like disappearing dreams of yesterday,
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On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
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I'm wishing Lord that I was stoned,
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'Cause there's something in a Sunday,
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That makes a body feel alone,
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And there's nothing short of dying,
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That?s half as lonesome as the sound,
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Of the sleeping city sidewalk,
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And Sunday morning coming down.