annuler
Change la taille du texte.
Remplace par des accords plus faciles à jouer.
Affiche les acccords français (Do, Ré, Mi…).
Seul le bas du texte défile, vous laissant ainsi les accords de départ visibles.
Certaines partitions n’affichent les accords qu’au début. Cet outil tente de les recopier dans l’ensemble du texte.
Marque le tempo à la vitesse que vous souhaitez.
/
Well I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
And I shaved my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I'd smoked my brain the night before
On cigarettes and songs so I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussing at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street
caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And it took me back to something
That I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way.
On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalks:
Sunday morning coming down.
In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl who he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the song they were singing.
Then I headed back for home
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing.
And it echoed through the canyons
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalks:
Sunday morning coming down.
(fading)
Do do do do do do do do
Do do do do do do do
Do do do do do do do do
Do do do do do do do.
(supprime les barrés)