About The Song
On Oct. 10, 1970, Johnny Cash took the Kris Kristofferson-penned song “Sunday Morning Coming Down” to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot Country Singles Charts. Cash’s recording of the song forever solidified it as one of the great entries in the American songbook. The tale of how it caught Cash’s attention is also one of country music’s greatest stories.
In 1969, the now legendary songwriter Kris Kristofferson was sweeping the floors at Columbia Records’ offices in Nashville.
Anyone who knew Kristofferson’s background might have scoffed at his new role. He was an Oxford graduate, a Rhodes Scholar, a former Captain in the Army, and a helicopter pilot. Despite his impressive resume, Kristofferson wanted nothing more than to be a songwriter, and he did anything to make that happen.
His janitor gig at Columbia was one step closer to achieving that goal. He watched Bob Dylan record Blonde on Blonde, but never mustered the courage to say hello. He did, however, meet another one of his idols: Johnny Cash.
“Y’know, John had a very creative imagination,” Kristofferson told UnCut. “I’ve never flown with a beer in my life. Believe me, you need two hands to fly those things.”
Kristofferson also said he doesn’t even think Cash was even home that day, adding he was lucky Johnny didn’t shoot him on the spot.
Whatever actually happened, the stunt was enough to get Cash’s attention. The following Thursday, Cash taped his weekly television program. “Here’s a song written by Kris Kristofferson,” Johnny told a national television audience. “Don’t forget that name.”
Soon after, the Man in Black invited Kristofferson to perform with him onstage at the Newport Folk Festival later that year.
As you know, Kristofferson went on to become one of the world’s greatest songwriters. He and Cash became close friends, even performing together for years in the supergroup The Highwaymen.
The rest is history.
Video
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 day
I’d smoked my mind the night before
With 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 way
On a Sunday mornin’ sidewalk
I’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
In the park I saw a daddy
With 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 yesterday
On a Sunday mornin’ sidewalk
I’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
