Cifras
Sunday Mornin Comin Down

Tom: A

Introdução:

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