Sunday Morning Coming Down / The Pilgrim chords by Kris Kristofferson, Lou Reed

SimplifiedG · C · D · Em · Am …

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Verse 1
G 
So what am I leading up to?
Well, how about some of
that early stuff?
How about Sunday morning,
coming down, stuff like that?
Could you do something from that era?
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
C 
No weed
D 
G 
Hold my head that didn't hurt
Em 
The beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
D 
So I had one more for dessert
G 
Then I fumbled through my closet
C 
for my clothes
G 
Em 
and found my cleanest dirty shirt
C 
I washed my face and combed my hair
Am 
and   stumbled down the stairs
D 
to meet the date
G 
I'd smoke my brain the night before
C 
on cigarettes and songs
G 
that I'd been picking
But I lit my first
Em 
and watched the small kid crossin'
D 
at a can that he was kickin'
G 
Then I crossed the empty street
C 
and caught the Sunday smell
G 
Em 
of someone frying chicken
C 
And it took me back to something
Am 
C 
D 
that I lost somehow somewhere
G 
C 
along the way
G 
C 
On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
G 
wishin' Lord that I was stoned.
Bm 
Cause there's nothin' in  a Sunday,
D 
there's somethin' in a Sunday,
G 
makes a body feel alone.
C 
there ain't nothing short of dying
G 
half as lonesome as the sound
D 
on the sleeping city sidewalks
C 
Bm 
Sunday morning
D 
G 
coming down so naturally
D 
G 
I took myself down to the Tally Ho Tavern
C 
D 
G 
to buy me a bottle of beer.
C 
D 
G 
I sat me down by a  tender
young maiden
Em 
F 
D 
whose eyes were as soft as her hair.
G 
As I  was searching from bottle to bottle
D 
G 
for something unfoolish to say,
C 
that silver -tongued devil
D 
G 
Em 
just slipped from the shadows,
D 
G 
smilingly stole her away.
D 
I said, hey, little girl,
C 
G 
D 
G 
don't you know he's the devil?
He's everything that I ain't.
D 
C 
G 
Em 
Hiding intentions of evil intentions
Am 
A 
D 
under the smile of a saint.
C 
G 
All he's good for is getting in trouble
C 
D 
And shifting his share of the blame
G 
C 
G 
Some people swear he's my double
Em 
A 
D 
Some even say we're the same
C 
But the silver -tongued devil's
G 
got nothing to lose
C 
G 
I'll only live till I die
D 
C 
We take our own chances
G 
Em 
and pay our own due.
D 
Chances are different these days.
The dues are different,
D 
G 
D 
D 
too. I was thinking of that when I saw Bobby Newarth,
the original Silver Tongue Devil,
D 
that night.
Em 
What a long way we have come.
D 
And it's a sadder world.
A 
D 
Because the very thing that's propelling
A 
D 
most of us around the planet
are things we can't even fool
with anymore.
A 
Without wearing a wetsuit.
D 
Thus, the silver tongue
G 
dilled the night.
There's one for Bobby, for all of us.
D 
See him wasted on the sidewalk
G 
in his jacket and his jeans
C 
Wearing yesterday's misfortunes
G 
like a smile
C 
Once he had a future
G 
full of money,
Em 
love and dreams
A 
Which he spent like they was going
D 
out of style
G 
And he keeps right on a -changin'
for the better or the worse
C 
D 
Searching for a shrine
G 
he's never found
C 
Never knowing if believing
G 
is a  blessing or a curse
C 
D 
G 
Or if going up was worth coming down
C 
He's a poet, he's a picker
G 
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
D 
He's a pilgrim man to preach
And a problem when he's stoned
G 
C 
He's a  walking contradiction
G 
Partly truth, mostly fiction
D 
Takin' every wrong direction
On his lonely way back home
G 
Thank you
There you go.
Thank you. Thanks. Thank you.