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SUNDAY MORNIN' COMIN' DOWN
As recorded by Bobby Bare
(From the 1970 Album THE REAL THING)
 
 
Capo 4th fret
 
 
[Intro]

G
 
 
[Verse 1]
G                                  C                                G
In the park I see a daddy with the laughin' little girl that he's a swinging
                                      Em                         D7
And I stop beside a Sunday school and listen to the song they're singing
    G                                   C                         G
I'm headin' back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell is ringing
       C                  Am           C            D            G
And it echoes through the city like my disappearing dreams of yesterday
 
 
{ CHORUS }

N.C.                  C                                G
On the Sunday morning sidewalk wishing Lord that I was home
                               D                         G
Cause there's something bout a Sunday makes a body feel alone
N.C.                        C                             G
And there's nothing sure to dying half as lonesome as the sound
                   D                              G
On a sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down
 
 
[Verse 2]
G                                    C                                     G
I smoked so much the night before my mouth feels like an ashtray I've been licking
                                           Em                             D7
Now I light my first and watch a small kid cussin' at the can he's been a kicking
  G                                    C                              G
I cross the empty street and catch the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken
       C                Am                 C            D               G
And it takes me back to something that I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way
 
 
{ CHORUS }
N.C.                  C                                G
On the Sunday morning sidewalk wishing Lord that I was home
                               D                         G
Cause there's something bout a Sunday makes a body feel alone
N.C.                        C                             G
And there's nothing sure to dying half as lonesome as the sound
                   D                              G
On a sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down
                    C                                G
On a Sunday morning sidewalk wishing Lord that I was home
                               D                         G
Cause there's something bout a Sunday makes a body feel alone
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