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Well, I woke upG Sunday morning
With no wCay to hold my heDad that it didn't hGurt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't Embad
So I had one more for dessDert D7
Then I fGumbled through my closet for my clCothes
And found my cleanest dirty sGhirt Em
And I shCaved my face and cDombed my hair
And stCumbled down the stDairs to meet the dD7ay
Well, I`d smGoked my brain the night before
With Ccigarettes and Dsongs that I'd been a-Gpickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
EmCussin' at a can that he was kDickin' D7
Then I crGossed the empty street and caught
The SCunday smell of someone fryin' cGhicken Em
And it tCook me back to sDomethin' that I'd loCst
Somehow, somewhDere along the wGay G7
G On a Sunday morning Csidewalk
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stGone
'Cause there's something in a SuDnday D7
That makes a body feel alGone G7
And there ain't nothing short of dCying
Half as lonesome as the sGound Em
Of a sleeping city sDidewalk
And Sunday mD7orning coming Gdown C G
In the pGark I saw a daddy
With a lCaughin' little gDirl that he was swGingin'
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And Emlistened to the songs that they were Dsingin'D7
Then I hGeaded back for home
And somewhere Cfar away a lonely bell was riGngin' Em
And it eCchoed through the cDanyon
Like a dCisappearin' drDeam of yesterdGay G7
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