I know it's been a few years since this thread was posted, but I love the song, and this is the only place on the internet I could find the lyrics.
So, here are the chords, as best I can tell...




While [D]walking one [A]day down the [D]bowery

[D]Drinking without any [G]cares

I [G]happened upon a [D]common old bum

Who'd fallen[E] down three flights[A] of stairs

His [D]coat was all [A]ragged and [D]tattered

The [D]hair was white on his [G]head

He gave[G] me a letter [D]with his dying breath

And [A]these were the words that he'd [D]said...



I was [D]standing on a [G]streetcar back in [D]Frisco

Waiting [D]for the light to [G]change from [D]red to green

When a thought[G[ came through my head about the [D]time we went to [Bm]bed

Underneath[E7] the western stars of [A]Abilene

You know a [D]lot of things get [G]hazy when you [D]wander

Days go [D]by like [G]boxcars in the [D]night

But some [G]day I know I'll find

Just a [D]little peace of mind

And when I [A]do I'll find you to make it [D]right.


I'll be [G]home in the morning when the [D]sun is comin up

And the [A]rooster's singin wake up to a [D]thousand buttercups

There'll be [G]pigs in the pen, and [D]turkeys in the woods

I'll be [A]home in the morning, dear, [D]for good.


It's[D] 20 years ago that [G]bus pulled out for[D] Denver

We were [D]standing in the [G]station holding [D]hands

Then we [G]finally said goodbye and I [D]stood and watched you [Bm]cry

And I asked[E7] myself how you could [A]understand

You know I've [D]been a lot of [G]places since that [D]Sunday

And some [D]things I done [G]just don't mean a [D]thing

But one [G]thing I know is true

Lord I'll [D]get back home to you

This old [A]bird can't stay forever on the [D]wing.



I'll be [G]home in the morning when the [D]sun is comin up

And the [A]rooster's singin wake up to a [D]thousand buttercups

There'll be [G]pigs in the pen, and [D]turkeys in the woods

I'll be [A]home in the morning, dear, [D]for good.



Instrumental



Well I [D]folded up the [G]letter I was [D]reading

Cause some [D]things are [G]just too personal to [D]tell

And I [G]gave it to the cop who was [D]standing at the [Bm]top

Of the [E7]stairs where that poor old bum had [A]fell

He hadn't [D]had the time to [G]put her name [D]upon it

And his [D]hand had [G]shook so bad his name was [D]blurred

But it [G]looked a lot like mine

So I'm [D]callin you this time

To say I'll be [A]home in the morning, dear, for[D] good



I'll be [G]home in the morning when the [D]sun is comin up

And the [A]rooster's singin wake up to a [D]thousand buttercups

There'll be [G]pigs in the pen, and [D]turkeys in the woods

I'll be [A]home in the morning, dear, [D]for good.



And out