Johnny Cash - Sunday Morning Coming Down Chords

 
         
         
         
         
X
3
2
1
3 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
2
3
4
1
8 fr
         
         
         
         
1
3
4
2
1
1
3 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
X
3
4
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
3
2
1
1
1
4
10 fr
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
3
4
3

12 fr
         
         
         
         
X
4
3
1
2
1
3 fr
         
         
         
         
X
         
         
         
         
1
3
4
2
1
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
X
4
3
1
2
1
3 fr
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
2
4
3
         
         
         
         
X
X
3
2
1
1
8 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
3
3
3
1
10 fr
         
         
         
         
4
3
1
1
1
X

10 fr
         
         
         
         
3
2
1
1
1
4
         
         
         
         
3
2
4
3 fr
         
         
         
         
1
3
4
2
1
1
         
         
         
         
2
1
3
4
3 fr
         
         
         
         
X
X
3
2
1
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
3
4
3
7 fr
         
         
         
         
X
4
3
1
2
1

10 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
2
3
4
X
10 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
3
3
3
1
12 fr
         
         
         
         
3
2
1
1
1
4
         
         
         
         
X
2
3
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
1
3
4
1
1
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
X
X
1
1
1
8 fr
         
         
         
         
X
3
2
4
1
2 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
4
4
4
7 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
3
4
2

9 fr
         
         
         
         
X
4
3
1
2
X
12 fr
         
         
         
         
X
1
3
4
2
1
5 fr
         
         
         
         
X
No chord
Standard guitar tuning:
E
A
D
G
B
E
Capo on 1 fret
WCell, I woke up Sunday morning With no wFay to hold my hGead that didn't Churt. And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't Ambad, So I had one more for dessGert. Then I fCumbled in my closet through my clFothes And found my cleanest dirty sChirt.Am Then I wFashed my face and cGombed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day. I'd smCoked my mind the night before With cFigarettes and Gsongs I'd been pCicking. But I lit my first and watched a small kidAm Playing with a can that he was Gkicking. Then I wCalked across the street And caught the FSunday smell of someone frying cChickenAm. And Lord, it Ftook me back to sometGhing that I'd lost Somewhere, somehow along the Cway. On a Sunday morning sFidewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was sCtoned. 'Cause there's something in a GSunday That makes a body feel aClone. And there's nothing short a' Fdying That's half as lonesome as the Csound Of the sleeping city sGidewalk And Sunday morning coming Cdown. In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing little girl that he was swinging. And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singing. Then I headed down the street, And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing, And it echoed through the canyon Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday. On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned. 'Cause there's something in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone. And there's nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down.