About the song
“Sunday Morning Coming Down” is a poignant country ballad that delves into the depths of loneliness and despair. Written by Kris Kristofferson, the song offers a raw and introspective glimpse into the life of a disillusioned wanderer struggling to find meaning and purpose.
Originally penned in the late 1960s, the song reflects Kristofferson’s personal experiences during a challenging period in his life. Living in a dilapidated tenement and grappling with feelings of isolation, he poured his emotions into the lyrics, creating a timeless piece of music that resonates with listeners across generations.
The song’s narrative unfolds on a Sunday morning, a time often associated with rest and tranquility. However, for the protagonist, the day is filled with a profound sense of emptiness and regret. The imagery of “Sunday morning coming down” evokes a melancholic atmosphere, suggesting the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future.
Kristofferson’s lyrics paint a vivid picture of the protagonist’s inner turmoil. He describes feelings of hopelessness, self-doubt, and a longing for connection. The refrain, “I’m wishing Lord that I was stoned,” captures the desire for escape from the harsh realities of life.
Johnny Cash’s iconic rendition of “Sunday Morning Coming Down” further solidified the song’s legacy. His gravelly voice and emotive performance infuse the lyrics with a raw intensity, making the protagonist’s struggles all the more palpable. Cash’s version, recorded live at the Ryman Auditorium, became a defining moment in his career, earning him a Country Music Association Award for Song of the Year in 1970.
Beyond its personal significance to Kristofferson, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” has become a universal anthem for those who have experienced loneliness, isolation, and the challenges of life. Its enduring popularity is a testament to the song’s emotional depth and its ability to connect with listeners on a profound level.
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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 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 dayI’d smoked my mind the night beforeWith cigarettes and songs I’d been pickin’ But I lit my first and watched a small kid Playin’ with a can that he was kickin’ Then I walked across the street And caught the Sunday smell of someone’s fryin’ chicken And Lord, it took me back to somethin’ that I’d lost Somewhere, somehow along the wayOn a Sunday mornin’ sidewalkI’m wishin’, Lord, that I was stoned ‘Cause there’s somethin’ in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone And there’s nothin’ short a’ dyin’ That’s half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleepin’ city sidewalk And Sunday mornin’ comin’ downIn the park I saw a daddyWith a laughin’ little girl that he was swingin’ And I stopped beside a Sunday school And listened to the songs they were singin’ Then I headed down the street And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin’ And it echoed through the canyons Like the disappearin’ dreams of yesterdayOn a Sunday mornin’ sidewalkI’m wishin’, Lord, that I was stoned ‘Cause there’s somethin’ in a Sunday That makes a body feel alone And there’s nothin’ short a’ dyin’ That’s half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleepin’ city sidewalk And Sunday mornin’ comin’ down