Sunday Morning Coming Down

Sung by Johnny Cash
Written by Kris Kristofferson

Did you know...? Kris Kristofferson wrote this song while living in a tenant slum in Nashville, Tennesssee and is based on his true life experience.

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.

About Kris Kristofferson an Oxford Rhodes scholar, he became an army captain who dramatically decided to move to Nashville and worked as a janitor while writing songs. When he wrote this song, I'll bet you he was thinking seriously about that career move. It paid off...

I'd smoked my mind the night before With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking. 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 frying chicken. And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd 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 nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down.

In the park I saw a daddy With a laughing 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 canyon Like the 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 nothing short a' dying That's half as lonesome as the sound Of the sleeping city sidewalk And Sunday morning coming down.