About the song
“Sunday Morning Coming Down” by Kris Kristofferson is a timeless country classic that paints a vivid picture of loneliness, introspection, and the bittersweetness of the morning after. Released in 1970 as part of his debut album “Kristofferson,” this song quickly became an anthem for those reflecting on life’s trials and tribulations in the quiet moments of a Sunday morning.
Written by Kristofferson himself, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” showcases his prowess as a masterful storyteller and lyricist. With its evocative imagery and raw emotional honesty, the song resonates deeply with listeners, transporting them to a world of empty beer cans, stale cigarette smoke, and the ache of a hangover.
Upon its release, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” garnered critical acclaim and commercial success, reaching the top of the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart and earning Kristofferson widespread recognition as a rising star in the country music scene. Its melancholic melody and poignant lyrics struck a chord with audiences, earning it a permanent place in the country music canon.
Beyond its chart-topping success, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” has been covered by numerous artists over the years, further cementing its status as a classic of the genre. Its enduring popularity is a testament to Kristofferson’s talent as a songwriter and the universal themes of loneliness and longing that resonate with listeners of all ages.
Whether you’re a longtime fan of country music or discovering Kris Kristofferson’s work for the first time, “Sunday Morning Coming Down” remains a poignant reminder of the human experience and the power of music to capture life’s most profound moments.
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 dessertThen 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
With cigarettes and songs
That I’ve been pickin’
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin’ at a can that he was kickinThen I crossed the empty street and
Caught the sunday smell
Of someone fryin chicken
And it took me back to something
That I’d lost somehow
Somewhere along the wayOn the sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing lord that I was stoned
Cause there’s something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there’s nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming downIn the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl
He was swingin
And I stopped beside the Sunday school
And listened to the song
That they were singingThen I headed back for home
And somewhere far away
A lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed thru the canyon like
The disappearing dreams of yesterdayOn the sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing lord that I was stoned
Cause therels something in a sunday
That makes a body feel alone
And there’s nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleeping city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down