About the song
“Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down” is more than just a country song. It’s a poignant exploration of despair, loss, and the longing for meaning. Written by the legendary Kris Kristofferson, the song has become a cornerstone of Americana music, resonating with artists and audiences alike.
First recorded by Ray Stevens in 1969, the song gained wider recognition through a powerful rendition by Johnny Cash. Cash, known for his deep baritone and ability to connect with the downtrodden, imbued the lyrics with a raw authenticity. His introduction, a spoken word piece reflecting on the plight of the drifter, sets the stage for the song’s melancholic tone.
The protagonist of “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down” finds himself isolated and alone on a Sunday morning. The starkness of the day, traditionally associated with rest and renewal, only amplifies his sense of despair. Lyrics like “There’s nothin’ sure to dyin’ / That’s half as lonesome as the sound of the sleepin’ city sidewall” paint a vivid picture of his emotional desolation.
The song delves into themes of addiction and the search for solace in a world that seems indifferent. The line “wishin’ Lord that I was stoned” caused controversy, highlighting the protagonist’s desperate attempt to escape his emotional turmoil. However, Johnny Cash, ever the champion of artistic integrity, refused to censor the lyric, recognizing its importance to the song’s raw honesty.
“Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down” transcends the boundaries of a country song. It’s a universal tale of human struggle, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there’s a yearning for connection and a search for meaning. The song’s enduring legacy lies in its ability to capture the complexity of the human experience, offering solace to those who find themselves lost and alone on a Sunday morning, or any day for that matter.
The song’s influence extends beyond country music. Gretchen Wilson’s powerful rendition on the Kris Kristofferson tribute album “The Pilgrim” is a testament to its enduring appeal. “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down” is a haunting ballad that continues to resonate with artists and listeners alike, a reminder of the power of music to confront difficult emotions and offer a sense of shared humanity.
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Lyrics
Well I woke up Sunday morning
with no way to hold my head,
it 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 that 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 and 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 this 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 a sond that they was singing.
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away
a lonely bell was ringing.
And it echoes through the canyons
like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.On this 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.