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Transportador
Cor de Fundo
Ferramentas
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G
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
C D G D
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
G Em
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
D
So I had one more for dessert.
G C
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
D G Em
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
C D
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
C G D
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
G
I'd smoked my brain the night before on
C D G D
cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
G Em
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
D
Cussin at a can that he was kicking.
G
Then I walked across the street
C D G Em
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
C D C
And it took me back to something that I'd lost somehow
D G
Somewhere along the way.
C
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
D G
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
D D7
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
G
Makes a body feel alone.
C
And there's nothing short a' dying
D G
That's half as lonesome as the sound
D D7
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
G D
And Sunday morning coming down
G
In the park I saw a daddy
C D G D
With a laughing little girl who he was swinging.
G Em
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
D
And listened to the songs they were singing.
G C
Then I headed down the street and somewhere far away
D G Em
a lonesome bell was ringing
C D
And it echoed through the canyon
C D G
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
C
On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
D G
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
D D7
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
G
That makes a body feel alone.
C
And there's nothing short a' dying
D G
That's half as lonesome as the sound
D
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
G D
And Sunday morning coming down
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