Sunday Mornin Comin Down

David Allan Coe

  • A
  • D
  • E
  • F#m
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Tom:
A Well, I woke up Sunday mornin'
D E A With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
F#m And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
E So I had one more for desert
A D Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
A And found my cleanest dirty shirt
D E Then I shaved my face and combed my hair
D E A And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
A I?d smoked my mind the night before
D E A With cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin' So I lit my first and watched a small kid
F#m E Cussin' at can that he was kickin'
A Then I crossed the street and caught
D A The Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
D E And it took me back to something that
D E A I lost somewhere, somehow along the way. [Chorus]
D E On a Sunday mornin' sidewalk
A Wishin' Lord that I was stoned
E Cause there's something in a Sunday
A That makes a body feel alone.
D E And there's nothin' short of dyin'
A Half as lonesome as the sound
E Of the sleepin' city sidewalk
A Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down.
A In the park I saw a daddy with a
D E A Laughin' little girl that he was swingin' And I stopped beside a Sunday school
F#m E And listened to the songs that they were singin'
A Then I headed down the street and somewhere
D A Far away a lonely bell was ringin'
D E And it echoed through the canyon
D E A Like a disappearing dreams of yesterday.
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