About the song
“Kris Kristofferson – Sunday Morning Coming Down” is a poignant country ballad that resonates with listeners through its heartfelt lyrics and soulful melody. The song was penned by Kris Kristofferson himself and released in 1970 as part of his debut album, “Kristofferson.”
The narrative of “Sunday Morning Coming Down” paints a vivid picture of loneliness and reflection, as the protagonist navigates the quiet streets of the morning after a long night of revelry. Kristofferson’s storytelling prowess shines through as he captures the bittersweet emotions of regret, nostalgia, and longing for simpler times.
The song quickly garnered critical acclaim and commercial success, reaching the top of the country music charts and earning Kristofferson widespread recognition as both a talented songwriter and performer. Its raw authenticity and relatable themes struck a chord with audiences, solidifying its place as a classic in the country music canon.
Over the years, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” has been covered by various artists and remains a staple in country music playlists. Its enduring popularity is a testament to Kristofferson’s enduring legacy as a masterful storyteller and songwriter.
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Lyrics
Well I woke up Sunday mornin’, 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 dayI’d smoked my brain the night before on, cigarettes and songs that I’d been pickin’
But I lit my first and watched a small kid cussin’ at a can, that he was kickin’
Then I crossed the empty street and caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin’ chicken
And it took me back to somethin’, that I’d lost somehow somewhere along the wayOn the Sunday morning sidewalks, wishin’ Lord, that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday, makes a body feel alone
And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’, half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin’ city side walks, Sunday mornin’ comin’ downIn the park I saw a daddy, with a laughing little girl who he was swingin’
And I stopped beside a Sunday school and listened to the song that they were singin’
Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin’
And it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dreams of yesterdayOn the Sunday morning sidewalks, wishin’ Lord, that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday, makes a body feel alone
And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’, half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin’ city side walks, Sunday mornin’ comin’ down