About the song
*”Sunday Morning Coming Down,” penned by the legendary Kris Kristofferson, is a poignant country ballad that has resonated with listeners for generations. Released in 1969, this timeless track paints a vivid picture of a weary traveler grappling with the isolation and regret that often accompany a life on the road. Kristofferson’s soulful vocals, combined with the song’s melancholic melody, create a deeply evocative listening experience.
The lyrics of “Sunday Morning Coming Down” explore themes of loneliness, longing, and the cyclical nature of life on the road. The protagonist, a weary wanderer, finds himself alone in a motel room on a Sunday morning, reflecting on the choices he’s made and the relationships he’s left behind. The song’s imagery is both specific and universal, allowing listeners to connect with the protagonist’s feelings of isolation and despair.
One of the most striking aspects of “Sunday Morning Coming Down” is its simplicity. Kristofferson’s lyrics are straightforward and unadorned, yet they convey a profound sense of emotion. The song’s melody is equally understated, allowing the lyrics to take center stage. This stripped-down approach has contributed to the song’s enduring appeal, as it allows listeners to focus on the raw honesty of Kristofferson’s storytelling.
Over the years, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” has been covered by numerous artists, each bringing their own unique interpretation to the song. However, it is Kristofferson’s original version that is widely regarded as the definitive recording. The song’s enduring popularity is a testament to the power of great songwriting and the universal themes it explores. Whether you’re a longtime country music fan or simply appreciate a well-crafted song, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” is a must-listen.*
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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