Tom: A
Introdução:
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