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
Four years of hard work!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!
Well, I woke up Sunday morning DEA With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt AF#m And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad E So I had one more for dessert AD Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes AF#m And found my cleanest dirty shirt DE Then I washed my face and combed my hair
Stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
I smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and songs that I'd been pickin' But I lit my first and watched a small boy Cussin' at a can that he'd been kickin' I crossed the empty street Caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken And it took me back to somethin' that I'd lost Somewhere, somehow along the way
AD On a Sunday morning sidewalk A I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stone E 'Cause there's something in a Sunday A That makes a body feel alone D And there ain't nothing short of dying A Half as lonesome as the sound E Of a sleeping city sidewalk A 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