Country Music

Classic Country Music Hits

Country Music

Charley Pride didn’t try to write a song that would shake the world. He simply wrote about a small habit he believed kept love alive: kissing his wife every morning before walking out the door. Kiss an Angel Good Mornin’ isn’t a song full of promises. It’s a song about being present — about love that endures quietly, day after day. Inspired by his more-than-60-year marriage to Rozene, the song became Charley Pride’s way of showing the world: True love doesn’t need to be proven. It just needs to be lived — in life’s smallest, most honest moments.

“Scroll down to the end of the article to listen to music.”

Introduction

I still remember the first time I heard Charley Pride’s “Kiss an Angel Good Mornin’.” It was a sunny afternoon, and the song came on the radio as I was driving through the countryside. The upbeat melody and heartfelt lyrics instantly lifted my spirits, reminding me of the simple joys that love brings into our lives.

About The Composition

  • Title: Kiss an Angel Good Mornin’
  • Composer: Ben Peters
  • Premiere Date: October 1971
  • Album: Charley Pride Sings Heart Songs
  • Genre: Country

Background

“Kiss an Angel Good Mornin'” is one of Charley Pride’s most celebrated songs, written by the accomplished songwriter Ben Peters. Released in October 1971, it served as the lead single from Pride’s album Charley Pride Sings Heart Songs. At a time when country music was embracing new sounds and themes, this song stood out with its genuine warmth and universal message.

The inspiration behind the song lies in its portrayal of love’s ability to bring happiness. The narrator shares his secret to staying cheerful: the simple act of kissing his “angel” good morning. This resonated with many listeners, as it highlighted the profound impact of everyday gestures of affection. The song was met with critical acclaim and commercial success, becoming Pride’s eighth number-one hit on the country charts. It also crossed over to the pop charts, reaching number 21 on the Billboard Hot 100 and number 19 on the Adult Contemporary chart, showcasing its broad appeal.

Musical Style

The song embodies classic country elements with its use of steel guitar and fiddle, creating a rich, melodic backdrop for Pride’s smooth vocals. Its structure is straightforward, featuring verses and a catchy chorus that makes it easy to sing along. The upbeat tempo and harmonious instrumentation contribute to an overall feel-good vibe, reinforcing the song’s theme of joy and contentment.

Lyrics

The lyrics offer a heartfelt narrative about the simple pleasures of life and love. When others inquire about the narrator’s consistently happy demeanor, he reveals that his secret is starting each day by kissing his “angel” good morning. This metaphorical “angel” represents his loved one, emphasizing how love enriches daily life. The song beautifully captures the essence of appreciating and nurturing personal relationships.

Performance History

Since its debut, “Kiss an Angel Good Mornin'” has become a signature song for Charley Pride. It earned him the Country Music Association’s Single of the Year award in 1972, further cementing his status in the music industry. The song has been covered by numerous artists over the years, reflecting its lasting influence. Notable performances include those by George Jones, Alan Jackson, and even a rendition by Conway Twitty, each adding their unique touch while honoring the original.

Cultural Impact

The song’s success played a significant role in bridging gaps within the music industry, particularly as Charley Pride was one of the few African-American artists in country music at the time. “Kiss an Angel Good Mornin'” helped broaden the audience for country music and demonstrated its universal themes. Its inclusion in various media and continued airplay on classic country stations highlight its enduring relevance.

Legacy

Decades later, the song remains a beloved classic, often cited as one of the greatest country songs of all time. It not only solidified Charley Pride’s legacy as a country music icon but also inspired future generations of artists. The song’s message about the power of love continues to resonate, proving that its appeal is timeless.

Conclusion

Listening to “Kiss an Angel Good Mornin'” always brings a smile to my face. It’s a reminder of how small acts of love can have a profound impact on our happiness. If you haven’t experienced this uplifting classic yet, I highly recommend giving it a listen. Charley Pride’s original recording captures the song’s essence perfectly, but exploring covers by other artists can also offer new perspectives on this timeless piece

Video

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Whenever I chance to meet
Some old friends on the street
They wonder, “How does a man get to be this way?”
I’ve always got a smiling face
Anytime and any place
And every time they ask me why
I just smile and say

[Chorus]
“You’ve got to
Kiss an angel good mornin’
And let her know you think about her when you’re gone
Kiss an angel good mornin’
And love her like the devil when you get back home”

[Verse 2]
Well, people may try to guess
The secret of a happiness
But some of them never learn, it’s a simple thing
The secret I’m speakin’ of
Is a woman and a man in love
And the answer is in this song
That I always sing

[Chorus]
You’ve got to
Kiss an angel good mornin’
And let her know you think about her when you’re gone
Kiss an angel good mornin’
And love her like the devil when you get back home
Kiss an angel good mornin’
And let her know you think about her when you’re gone
Kiss an angel good mornin’
And love her like the devil when you get back home

Related Post

Country Music

HE OPENED THE ENVELOPE, SAW JOHN DENVER’S NAME, AND SET COUNTRY MUSIC’S BIGGEST AWARD ON FIRE. Charlie Rich had not come to Nashville as a clean country product. He was born in Colt, Arkansas, raised around gospel, blues, jazz, and cotton-field country. His mother played piano in church. A Black sharecropper named C. J. Allen helped teach him blues piano. By the time Rich found his way through Sun Records, RCA, Smash, Hi, and finally Epic, he had already been too jazzy for country, too country for pop, and too strange for the easy lane. Then 1973 changed everything. “Behind Closed Doors” hit. “The Most Beautiful Girl” hit even bigger. Rich became the Silver Fox, won major awards, and in 1974 took CMA Entertainer of the Year. For one year, the man Nashville had never known how to file became the man holding its highest prize. On October 13, 1975, he walked back onstage at the CMA Awards to name the next Entertainer of the Year. He opened the envelope. John Denver. Rich paused, pulled out a lighter, and burned the card before announcing, “My friend, Mr. John Denver.” Some called it protest. Some called it drunken bad judgment. His son later said Rich had pain medication, gin and tonics, a broken foot, and thought it would be funny — not a personal attack on Denver. The explanation came later. The image stayed first. A white-haired country star. A live television stQage. One burning slip of paper. And a career that never fully stepped out of that smoke.

Country Music

THEY GOT MARRIED ON A CONCERT STAGE IN WICHITA. LESS THAN THREE YEARS LATER, JEAN SHEPARD WAS LEFT WITH TWO SONS AND A HUSBAND COUNTRY MUSIC COULD ONLY HEAR ON RECORDS. They met inside the world that had already claimed both of them — radio shows, road dates, the Grand Ole Opry, dressing rooms, and the kind of touring life where a singer’s home could feel like whatever town had the next stage. Jean was not fragile. She had already fought her way into hard country when women were still expected to sound sweeter than the men around them. “A Dear John Letter” had taken her to No. 1. The Opry had taken her in. She had survived one bad early marriage and kept her career anyway. Hawkshaw was different. Six-foot-five. Smooth. Charismatic. A West Virginia singer people called “Eleven Yards of Personality.” He had the height, the grin, and the kind of stage presence that made a crowd feel like he had walked in from a bigger life. On November 26, 1960, they married onstage during a concert in Wichita, Kansas. It was not just a courthouse promise. Ken Nelson gave Jean away. A local disc jockey broadcast the ceremony over the radio. The crowd was there. The music world was there. Their private vow entered country history through a microphone. For a while, it looked like the show and the marriage could live together. They toured. They built a home in Goodlettsville. They had a son, Don Robin, named after friends Don Gibson and Marty Robbins. Jean became pregnant again. Then the calendar turned cruel. The marriage that had started in front of an audience ended with Jean carrying the part no audience could sing for her — a toddler, an unborn child, and a husband whose voice kept climbing the chart after he was gone.

Country Music

JEAN SHEPARD CUT “LONESOME 7-7203” BEFORE HER HUSBAND DID. CAPITOL LEFT IT SITTING. THEN HAWKSHAW HAWKINS RECORDED IT — AND DIED THREE DAYS AFTER ITS RELEASE. The song did not start as Hawkshaw Hawkins’ last hit. It passed through Jean Shepard first. By the early 1960s, Jean was already one of country music’s toughest women. She had come up through honky-tonk, made “A Dear John Letter” a No. 1 duet, joined the Grand Ole Opry, and proved she was not just a pretty harmony voice in a man’s business. Hawkshaw Hawkins was already part of that same Opry world. Tall, smooth, steady, with a career that had stretched from West Virginia radio to national country stages. He and Jean married in 1960. Two singers. Two roads. One house outside Nashville. Then came a Justin Tubb song called “Lonesome 7-7203.” Jean recorded it for Capitol, but the label left it unreleased. The song sat there. A lonely telephone number. A heartbreak line waiting for somebody to dial it. Hawkshaw finally told her that if Capitol was not going to release it, he would record it himself. King Records released his version on March 2, 1963. Three days later, Hawkshaw Hawkins was dead. The plane crash near Camden took him, Patsy Cline, Cowboy Copas, and pilot Randy Hughes. Jean was left with the grief, the children, and the strange sound of her husband’s voice still rising on the radio. Then the song climbed. “Lonesome 7-7203” reached No. 1 after Hawkshaw was gone. Jean had recorded it first. Hawkshaw made it immortal. Country music kept dialing the number after the man who sang it could no longer answer.

You Missed

Country Music

HE OPENED THE ENVELOPE, SAW JOHN DENVER’S NAME, AND SET COUNTRY MUSIC’S BIGGEST AWARD ON FIRE. Charlie Rich had not come to Nashville as a clean country product. He was born in Colt, Arkansas, raised around gospel, blues, jazz, and cotton-field country. His mother played piano in church. A Black sharecropper named C. J. Allen helped teach him blues piano. By the time Rich found his way through Sun Records, RCA, Smash, Hi, and finally Epic, he had already been too jazzy for country, too country for pop, and too strange for the easy lane. Then 1973 changed everything. “Behind Closed Doors” hit. “The Most Beautiful Girl” hit even bigger. Rich became the Silver Fox, won major awards, and in 1974 took CMA Entertainer of the Year. For one year, the man Nashville had never known how to file became the man holding its highest prize. On October 13, 1975, he walked back onstage at the CMA Awards to name the next Entertainer of the Year. He opened the envelope. John Denver. Rich paused, pulled out a lighter, and burned the card before announcing, “My friend, Mr. John Denver.” Some called it protest. Some called it drunken bad judgment. His son later said Rich had pain medication, gin and tonics, a broken foot, and thought it would be funny — not a personal attack on Denver. The explanation came later. The image stayed first. A white-haired country star. A live television stQage. One burning slip of paper. And a career that never fully stepped out of that smoke.

Country Music

THEY GOT MARRIED ON A CONCERT STAGE IN WICHITA. LESS THAN THREE YEARS LATER, JEAN SHEPARD WAS LEFT WITH TWO SONS AND A HUSBAND COUNTRY MUSIC COULD ONLY HEAR ON RECORDS. They met inside the world that had already claimed both of them — radio shows, road dates, the Grand Ole Opry, dressing rooms, and the kind of touring life where a singer’s home could feel like whatever town had the next stage. Jean was not fragile. She had already fought her way into hard country when women were still expected to sound sweeter than the men around them. “A Dear John Letter” had taken her to No. 1. The Opry had taken her in. She had survived one bad early marriage and kept her career anyway. Hawkshaw was different. Six-foot-five. Smooth. Charismatic. A West Virginia singer people called “Eleven Yards of Personality.” He had the height, the grin, and the kind of stage presence that made a crowd feel like he had walked in from a bigger life. On November 26, 1960, they married onstage during a concert in Wichita, Kansas. It was not just a courthouse promise. Ken Nelson gave Jean away. A local disc jockey broadcast the ceremony over the radio. The crowd was there. The music world was there. Their private vow entered country history through a microphone. For a while, it looked like the show and the marriage could live together. They toured. They built a home in Goodlettsville. They had a son, Don Robin, named after friends Don Gibson and Marty Robbins. Jean became pregnant again. Then the calendar turned cruel. The marriage that had started in front of an audience ended with Jean carrying the part no audience could sing for her — a toddler, an unborn child, and a husband whose voice kept climbing the chart after he was gone.

Country Music

JEAN SHEPARD CUT “LONESOME 7-7203” BEFORE HER HUSBAND DID. CAPITOL LEFT IT SITTING. THEN HAWKSHAW HAWKINS RECORDED IT — AND DIED THREE DAYS AFTER ITS RELEASE. The song did not start as Hawkshaw Hawkins’ last hit. It passed through Jean Shepard first. By the early 1960s, Jean was already one of country music’s toughest women. She had come up through honky-tonk, made “A Dear John Letter” a No. 1 duet, joined the Grand Ole Opry, and proved she was not just a pretty harmony voice in a man’s business. Hawkshaw Hawkins was already part of that same Opry world. Tall, smooth, steady, with a career that had stretched from West Virginia radio to national country stages. He and Jean married in 1960. Two singers. Two roads. One house outside Nashville. Then came a Justin Tubb song called “Lonesome 7-7203.” Jean recorded it for Capitol, but the label left it unreleased. The song sat there. A lonely telephone number. A heartbreak line waiting for somebody to dial it. Hawkshaw finally told her that if Capitol was not going to release it, he would record it himself. King Records released his version on March 2, 1963. Three days later, Hawkshaw Hawkins was dead. The plane crash near Camden took him, Patsy Cline, Cowboy Copas, and pilot Randy Hughes. Jean was left with the grief, the children, and the strange sound of her husband’s voice still rising on the radio. Then the song climbed. “Lonesome 7-7203” reached No. 1 after Hawkshaw was gone. Jean had recorded it first. Hawkshaw made it immortal. Country music kept dialing the number after the man who sang it could no longer answer.

Country Music

SHE SAID A MAN WITH A GUN WAS WAITING IN THE BACK SEAT. DAYS LATER, TAMMY WYNETTE STILL WALKED ONSTAGE IN SOUTH CAROLINA. Tammy Wynette already knew what it meant to sing pain for a living. By 1978, she was not just a country star. She was the woman behind “Stand by Your Man,” “D-I-V-O-R-C-E,” “I Don’t Wanna Play House,” and the kind of songs that made broken homes sound like they had wallpaper, bills, children, and nowhere clean to hide. Her life had become part of the story too. Marriages. George Jones. Public fights. Illness. A voice that could make surrender sound noble even when the woman singing it was barely holding the pieces together. Then came October 4, 1978. Tammy had gone shopping at Green Hills in Nashville for a birthday gift for her daughter. When she returned to her car, she later said a masked man was hiding in the back seat with a gun. He forced her to drive, beat her, and released her about 80 miles away in Giles County. The story sounded like something too strange even for country music. Questions followed. Rumors followed. No one was ever convicted. The mystery stayed attached to her name for the rest of her life. But Tammy still had a calendar. A few days later, bruised and shaken, she appeared for a concert in Columbia, South Carolina. The fans saw the First Lady of Country Music under the lights. What they could not fully see was the woman who had just been left on a Tennessee roadside, trying to explain a nightmare nobody could neatly close. Loretta Lynn turned poverty into defiance. Patsy Cline turned survival into steel. Tammy Wynette turned private wreckage into a voice so controlled it almost hid the damage.