Does your prose sing like a Kristofferson song?

Kris Kristofferson (on the left)
Kris Kristofferson (on the left)

As I write this Sunday morning is coming down.

How else can I put it?

But why must I use those words?

That’s the only way to say it because Kris Kristofferson showed us the way to Sunday morning.

Kris really isn’t what one usually refers to as a cowboy poet.  His site lists his personal achievements:

Kristofferson is a Country Music Hall of Famer who ranks among the most versatile of American talents. He’s been a Golden Gloves boxer, a Rhodes scholar, a college football player, an acclaimed actor, a military officer, a helicopter pilot, a Grammy-winner, a screw-up and an icon…

How about that Rhodes scholar credit?

So when Kris decided he would ditch his career path and become a singer-songwriter, he applied the tools of English literature to his trade, mixed in gut-wrenching introspection, and four chords.

What came out was stuff like Sunday Morning Coming Down.

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 desert
Then I fumbled through my closet for 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 brain the night before on cigarettes and songs that I’d been apickin’
But up I lit my first one and watched a small kid cussin’ at the can that he’s akickin’
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 makes a body feel alone
And there’s nothing short of dying half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleepin’ city sidewalks Sunday morning coming 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 song that they were singin’
Then I headed down the street and somewhere far away a lonesome bell was ringin’
And it echoed through the canyons like the disappearing dreams of yesterday


On the Sunday morning sidewalk…
On the Sunday morning sidewalk…

What makes it so great is that it’s so real.

Let’s listen as Kris and Johnny Cash team up on Sunday Morning Coming Down.

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  • Thanks for the beautiful song to sing along to – and I didn’t know half that stuff about Kris Kristofferson – that’s amazing. I just know the music.

    It used to be you didn’t think of books as coming from authors, real live people – the books appeared magically. Same for music.

  • Caleb Pirtle

    The boy did know how to sling words together that would touch your soul.

  • Roger Summers

    First heard this song decades ago, Stephen. Been in my head since. My heart too. Glad it is. Thanks for posting so I can hear it again.

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