Johnny Cash (born J.R. Cash; February 26, 1932 – September 12, 2003) was an American singer-songwriter, guitarist, actor, and author. He is one of the best-selling music artists of all time, having sold more than 90 million records worldwide. Although primarily remembered as a country music icon, his genre-spanning songs and sound embraced rock and roll, rockabilly, blues, folk, and gospel.
Cash was known for his deep, calm bass-baritone voice
This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
G Well, I woke up Sunday morning CDG With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt GE And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad D So I had one more for dessert GC Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes GE And found my cleanest dirty shirt CD Then I washed my face and combed my hair AD Stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
G Well I smoked my mind the night before CG With cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin'
But I lit my first and watched a small boy AD Cussin' at a can that he'd been kickin' G I crossed the empty street CG Caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken CDA And it took me back to somethin' that I'd lost DG Somewhere, somehow along the way
C On a Sunday morning sidewalk G I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stone D 'Cause there's something in a Sunday G That makes a body feel alone C And there ain't nothing short of dying G Half as lonesome as the sound D Of a sleeping city sidewalk E Sunday morning coming down
In the park I saw a daddy With a laughin' little girl that he'd been swingin' And I stopped beside a Sunday school Listened to the songs that they were singin' I headed down the road, Somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin' And it echoed through the canyon Like a disappearin' dream of yesterday