Johnny Cash – Sunday Morning Coming Down (Ukulele)

 C
Well, I woke up Sunday morning

         F              G               C
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.

                                        Am
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,

                          G
So I had one more for dessert.

        C                                F
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes

                             C    Am
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.

        F                  G
Then I washed my face and combed my hair

      C
I'd smoked my mind the night before

      F             G               C
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.

                                          Am
But I lit my first and watched a small kid

                               G
Cussin at a can that he was kicking.

        C
Then I walked across the street

               F                               C     Am
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.

             F                    G
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost

                             C
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

                     F
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,

                               C
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.

                              G
'Cause there's something in a Sunday

                        C
That makes a body feel alone.

                             F
And there's nothing short a' dying

                               C
That's half as lonesome as the sound

                      G
Of the sleeping city sidewalk

                          C
And Sunday morning coming down.

C
In the park I saw a daddy

       F               G                 C
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.

                              Am
And I stopped beside a Sunday school

                                        G
And listened to the songs they were singing.

       C                F
Then I headed down the street,

                                           C     Am
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,

       F                   G
And it echoed through the canyon

                                      C
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

                     F
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,

                               C
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.

                              G
'Cause there's something in a Sunday

                       C
That makes a body feel alone.

                             F
And there's nothing short a' dying

                               C
That's half as lonesome as the sound

                     G
Of the sleeping city sidewalk

                          C
And Sunday morning coming down.