About the song
“Sunday Morning Coming Down” is a classic country song by Kris Kristofferson, released in 1970. This poignant and introspective piece stands out in the annals of country music for its raw honesty and vivid storytelling. Written by Kristofferson himself, the song captures the feeling of loneliness and regret that often accompanies the aftermath of a night of heavy drinking.
Kris Kristofferson, an iconic figure in country music, not only performed the song but also penned it, demonstrating his exceptional talent as both a singer and a songwriter. The song was originally recorded by Ray Stevens in 1969, but it gained widespread popularity when Johnny Cash performed it on his television show in 1970, bringing it to the forefront of American country music.
“Sunday Morning Coming Down” was part of Kristofferson’s self-titled debut album, which was a significant milestone in his career. The song’s vivid lyrics and heartfelt delivery resonated with many, earning it a prominent place on the country charts. It reached number one on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart in 1970 when Cash’s version was released as a single.
The song’s success is a testament to Kristofferson’s profound impact on the genre, blending traditional country elements with a modern, introspective approach. His ability to articulate the human condition with such clarity and emotion has made “Sunday Morning Coming Down” a timeless piece, cherished by fans old and new alike.
Through “Sunday Morning Coming Down,” Kris Kristofferson not only cemented his place in country music history but also influenced countless artists who followed. The song remains a powerful reminder of the universal themes of loneliness, introspection, and redemption, making it a relatable anthem for many.
Video
Lyrics
… 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 in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
… I’d smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I’d been pickin’
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking
… Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone’s fryin’ chicken
And Lord it took me back to something that I lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way
… On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I’m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
… And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’
That’s half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalks
And Sunday morning coming down
… In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughin’ little girl that he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing
… Then I headed down the street
And somewhere far away, a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyons
Like a disappearing dreams of yesterday
… On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I’m wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
… And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’
That’s half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin’ city sidewalks
And Sunday morning coming down