Sunday Morning Coming Down
David Allan Coe Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

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 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 day

I'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 kickin

Then 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 way

On 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 down

In 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 singing

Then 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 yesterday

On 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

Overall Meaning

David Allan Coe's song Sunday Morning Coming Down is a melancholic and introspective tune that narrates the experiences of a man on a Sunday morning after a long night of drinking and smoking. The first two stanzas describe how the singer wakes up with a headache and decides to have a beer for breakfast, followed by another one for dessert. He then gets dressed and leaves his home. The third stanza tells us about his encounter with a child kicking a can and the familiar smell of fried chicken that takes him back to a memory from his past.


In the fourth stanza, Coe tells us that Sundays remind his protagonist of his loneliness, and he wishes he was stoned to feel less alone. He feels that the sound of the sleeping city sidewalk is half as lonesome as dying. In the last two stanzas, the singer watches a father playing with his daughter and listens to the Sunday school singing before heading back home. As he reaches home, he hears a distant bell ringing, echoing the dreams of yesterday, and the song ends on a somber note.


Coe's lyrics offer a bleak view of the world, showcasing how the singer feels isolated and unfulfilled. The repetition of the phrase "Sunday Morning Coming Down" emphasizes the monotony of his existence, with every Sunday feeling the same as the previous one. The song's simple melody and Coe's deep, resonant voice add to the overall sense of melancholy and despair.


Line by Line Meaning

Well I woke up Sunday morning
The singer begins his story on a Sunday morning.


With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
The singer is experiencing pain associated with a hangover.


And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad so I had one more for dessert
The singer has continued drinking and has now consumed two beers on an empty stomach.


Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
The artist is disoriented and having trouble finding his clothes.


And found my cleanest dirty shirt
The artist settles on a shirt that is relatively clean, despite being dirty.


And I shaved my face and combed my hair
The singer attempts to present himself in a more put-together manner.


And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day
The singer is still feeling the effects of his hangover and is unsteady on his feet.


I'd smoked my brain the night before with cigarettes and songs that I've been pickin'
The artist engaged in heavy smoking and songwriting the previous night.


But I lit my first and watched a small kid cussin' at a can that he was kickin'
The artist observes a child swearing and kicking a can.


Then I crossed the empty street and caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin chicken
The smell of fried chicken reminds the artist of his past and creates a sense of nostalgia.


And it took me back to something that I'd lost somehow somewhere along the way
The smell of fried chicken evokes a lost memory and a sense of melancholy.


On the Sunday morning sidewalk wishing Lord that I was stoned
The artist wishes he was under the influence of drugs to numb his feelings of loneliness.


Cause there's something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone
The singer experiences a sense of isolation on Sundays.


And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound on the sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down
The singer believes that there is no experience as lonely as waking up hungover on a Sunday morning.


In the park I saw a daddy with a laughing little girl he was swingin'
The singer observes a father spending time with his young daughter.


And I stopped beside the Sunday school and listened to the song that they were singing
The artist takes a moment to appreciate the music being played at a local church.


Then I headed back for home and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
The artist begins to head back home as a distant bell tolls.


And it echoed through the canyon like the disappearing dreams of yesterday
The sound of the bell evokes a sense of loss and things that have disappeared over time.


On the Sunday morning sidewalk wishing Lord that I was stoned
The singer continues to experience a sense of loneliness and wishes to be under the influence of drugs.


Cause there's something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone
The artist reiterates that Sundays are emotionally difficult for him.


And there's nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound on the sleeping city sidewalk Sunday morning coming down
The artist repeats that waking up on a Sunday morning with a hangover is an extremely lonely experience.




Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: Kris Kristofferson

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on or correct specific content, highlight it

Genre not found
Artist not found
Album not found
Song not found
Comments from YouTube:

jj binx

amazing cover!

Alan McCarthy

Kris cover 🖒
D.A.C.S STILL THE KING FROM OLD SCHOOL WHEN COUNTRY MUSIC WAS REAL 'CAUSE REAL COUNTRY MUSIC IS AN OLD TRADITION 💝
love ya David 🎸
( bigger hillbilly star ☆ )

Douglas Wilson

good job DAC!

NeilYoungNebraska

way cooool

Shane Hall

this song mentions the cure for a hangover wake up a hungover drink a beer for breakfast then smoke some pot.

Nucky Thompson

fu

Alan McCarthy

( Kristofferson's song )
D.A.C.S STILL THE KING

jj binx

i do that every sunday morning minus the weed

Nucky Thompson

gr8

Nucky Thompson

smd

More Versions