Cifras
Sunday Morning Coming Down

Tom: G

Introdução:

dificuldade
muito fácil |||||
      G 
verse 1
                 G                                                           C                                                             G 
Well, I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
                 G                                                             Em                                                       D 
and the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, so I had one more for dessert.
               G                                                                     C                                                                     G           Em 
Then I fumbled through my closet trough my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt
               C                                                                   Am                                                                     D 
then I washed my face, combed my hair and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
verse 2
         G                                                                       C                                                                     G 
I'd smoked my mind the night before with cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin',
             G                                                                       Em                                                         D 
but I lit my first and watched a small kid playing with a can that he was kickin'.
               G                                                                                         C                                                           G             Em 
Then I walked across the empty street and caught the sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken,
                             C                             Am                                 C                                 D                           G 
and, Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost somewhere somehow along the way.
                                             C                                                                  G 
On the sunday morning sidewalk, wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
                                                             D                                                        G 
'cause there's something in a sunday that makes a body feel alone.
                                                           C                                                      G 
And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound
                                           D                                                                G 
on the sleeping city sidewalk and sunday morning coming down.
verse 3
               G                                                 C                                                     G 
In the park I saw a daddy with a laughing little girl he was swingin'
             G                                                                       Em                                                                   D 
and I stopped beside the Sunday school and listened to the song that they were singin'.
               G                                                                   C                                                   G               Em 
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'
               C                             Am                           C                       D                             G 
and it echoed thru the canyon like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
End-Chorus
                                             C                                                                  G 
On the sunday morning sidewalk, wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
                                                             D                                                        G 
'cause there's something in a sunday that makes a body feel alone.
                                                           C                                                      G 
And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound
                                           D                                                                G 
on the sleeping city sidewalk and sunday morning coming down.
Outro