"Yes, I Was a Singer of Songs"

Laziness has overtaken me. I sat down to write a post and now I don't feel like it. Hmmm, what does my conscience tell me. It is telling me to be lazy and just copy and paste some excerpt, lyrics, or quote.... so I'll follow my conscience. I'm going to post my all-time favorite song ever. This is the real deal... this has been my favorite song ever since I heard it about five years ago. It is by, of course, Johnny Cash and the title is.... "Sunday Morning Coming Down." A song that I believe portrays the life of Johnny Cash, the struggles he went through... yet it contains an unmentioned ray of hope, through the simple knowledge of Cash's life, and what he overcame. It is indeed, the greatest song ever written and sung. The writer, Kris Kristoferson, the singer... the one, the only, the Man in Black... Mr. J.R. "Johnny" Cash.

Sunday Morning Coming Down --Johnny Cash

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.

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.


Ok, I couldn't resist. I'm going to write a song review...

From the beginning you can tell this is a hangover song. This guy lives alone, never does his laundry, and has beer for breakfast and dessert. His life is obviously in a mess. It's sunday morning, right from the start you can tell that sometime, maybe a long time ago, in his childhood, Sunday morning was a day that he spent dressing up and going to church with his family. Now he's living alone in a small apartment, putting on his "cleanest dirty shirt" and stumbling donw the stairs to meet the day.

Along the sidewalk, the writes and singer takes you through the sights and sounds of a Sunday morning. In an almost dream-like, surreal narrative, Johnny Cash brings in the solemnity of a lost, dead-end life. It's almost as if he's behind bars, keeping him from experiencing and truly feeling those moments of "kicking the can" or "smelling fried chicken" that he'd lost somewhere, somehow along the way.

Faced with the realization and the depression of having lost it all... he goes to the one thing he depends on to forget it all. "On a Sunday morning sidewalk, I wish it, Lord, that I was stoned." He's alone, afraid, lost, regretful... he has to forget it all. But the Sunday Morning sidewalk keeps calling him... haunting him, reminding him of everything he's lost.

Again, he sees the laugh of a little girl, enjoying her time with her father... he longs to enjoy the laugh, to feel the laugh, to know what it's like to be that father, or to be that young child... so innocent, so free from worry and despair. Notice how the writer continually brings in the actions of children. The boy kicking the can, a little girl swinging with her daddy, children singing in Sunday school class. This shell of a man longs to be fulfilled with the simple joys of life the way he used to be. The way it was when he'd go to church with his brother Jack, the way it was when he would play kick the can, swing his kids, or have backyard cookouts.

And then the most piercing lines in the song. "Then I headed down the street and somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing. And it echoed through the canyons, like the dissapearing dreams of yesterday." Through the emptiness of his soul, the lonely bell rings and reverberates the dreams that were lost and forgetton through the confusion of life and fame and despair. Through Cash's rusty, mono-tone, rough voice, you can painfully feel the yearning for those long lost days. For those days that are gone forever... doubtful to return. His nostalgic voice is too honest to not realize the truth in this song, the truth in his own life. After growing up a poor farm boy, having his mentor-brother die at age 10, become a famous singer, plummet into drugs, pills, suicide, drinking, divorce, and anger, have his life melt away before his very eyes as the pills became more frequent, the drinking more rampant, the vanity - overwhelming. So, here he is... on a Sunday morning, stumbling along the sidewalk... wishing he was stoned. His body is alone... is there hope? Is there a future?

Well if you don't know anything about Johnny Cash, know this. He crawled into a cave outside of Chattanooga, TN and had decided that it was all going to end there. He would just stay in that hole until his life was gone. And then, Cash later testifies, God showed him a light and gave him a second chance. After marrying June Carter, he began to quit his pills, stop the drinking, and began a long road to recovery. In the late 1990's, as his body began to grow older and more feeble... he had a severe case of arthritis and blood disease. He had a choice to either live with the pain, or to take pain-killers, but by taking the pain-killers, he would put himself in danger of becoming addicted again to the pills. He chose the pain. And he went on to record several more albums... singing and fulfilling his legacy to the last breath. He always said that, even if he had been in pain all the day long... when he walked into that studio room, and began to sing, his pain went away.. feeding off his passion for singing. Well after a longer than expected post... I'll leave you with another great song that Johnny Cash released...actually after his death. He worked on this album up until the time of his death and I think this song puts it all right.

Singer of Songs --Johnny Cash

I’m not a savior, and I’m not a saint.

The man with the answers I certainly ain’t.

I wouldn’t tell you what’s right or what’s wrong.

I’m just a singer of songs.

But I can take you for a walk along a little country stream.

I can make you see through lovers’ eyes and understand their dreams.

I can help you hear a baby’s laugh and feel the joy it brings.

Yes, I can do it with the songs I sing.

I’m not a prophet, and I’m not a priest.

I’m not a wise man who’s come from the East.

I wouldn’t tell you what’s right or what’s wrong.

I’m just a singer of songs.

But I can take you to a city where a man was crucified.

I can tell you how He lived, and I can tell you why He died.

I can help proclaim the glory of this mighty king of kings.

Yes, I can do it with the songs I sing.

I’m not a great man.I don’t claim to be.

But when I meet my Maker and He questions me,

I won’t hang my head. I’ll stand proud and strong

and say, “I was a singer. Lord, I was a singer.

Yes, I was a singer of songs."