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B.J. Thomas – Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song

About the Song

In the annals of country music, there are songs that twang with the twang of a guitar, tales of heartbreak and woe spun out in the twangy drawl of a seasoned singer. And then there are songs like “Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song” by B. J. Thomas, which transcend the genre’s boundaries, weaving a tapestry of heartache and healing that resonates with a universal human experience.

Released in 1975, “Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song” marked a pivotal moment in Thomas’s illustrious career. While he had already established himself as a countrypolitan crooner with hits like “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” and “Hooked on a Feeling,” this song showcased a depth and maturity that set him apart from his contemporaries.

From the opening notes, the song sets a melancholic mood, with a gentle guitar strumming and Thomas’s voice, rich with emotion, weaving its way through the verses. The lyrics paint a vivid picture of a love gone wrong, of promises broken and hearts shattered. Thomas’s delivery is not one of anger or bitterness, but rather of weary acceptance and a quiet yearning for solace.

The chorus, with its repetitive refrain of “Another somebody done somebody wrong,” serves as a poignant reminder of the universality of heartbreak. It’s a sentiment that transcends age, gender, and social strata, a truth that has echoed through the ages in countless songs, poems, and stories.

Yet, amidst the sorrow, there is a glimmer of hope. The bridge offers a lifeline, a suggestion that perhaps, just perhaps, love can find a way to mend the broken pieces. “Maybe this time,” Thomas sings, “love will find a way to make things right.”

The song’s conclusion is not one of triumph or resolution, but rather of quiet acceptance. Thomas acknowledges the pain that love can bring, but he also recognizes its power to heal. And so, the song ends with a sense of resignation, a willingness to face the future with whatever challenges it may bring.

“Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song” is a countrypolitan ballad that speaks to the heart with its honesty and emotional resonance. It’s a song that acknowledges the pain of heartbreak while offering a glimmer of hope for healing. Thomas’s masterful delivery and the song’s timeless message have ensured its place among the classics of country music.

Video 

Lyrics: Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song 

It’s lonely out tonight
And the feeling just got right for a brand new love song
Somebody done somebody wrong songHey, won’t you play another
Somebody done somebody wrong song
And make me feel at home
While I miss my baby, while I miss my babySo please, play for me a sad melody
So sad that it makes everybody cry
A real hurtin’ song about a love that’s gone wrong
‘Cause I don’t wanna cry all aloneHey, won’t you play another
Somebody done somebody wrong song
And make me feel at home
While I miss my baby, while I miss my babySo please, play for me a sad melody
So sad that it makes everybody cry
A real hurtin’ song about a love that’s gone wrong
‘Cause I don’t wanna cry all aloneHey, won’t you play another
Somebody done somebody wrong song
And make me feel at home
While I miss my baby, while I miss my babyHey, won’t you play another
Somebody done somebody wrong song
And make me feel at home
While I miss my baby, while I miss my babyHey, won’t you play another
Somebody done somebody wrong song
And make me feel at home
While I miss my baby, while I miss my baby

 

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HIS FATHER TOLD HIM TO PUT DOWN THE GUITAR. NASHVILLE FORGOT HIM. TWICE. HE CAME BACK IN A WHEELCHAIR AND STILL WOULDN’T SHUT UP. Vern Gosdin grew up hauling rocks and chopping cotton in Woodland, Alabama. His father tried music once, failed, and forbade his son from ever touching a guitar. Vern left home and never looked back — never saw his father again. He moved to California. Then Chicago. Then Nashville. Two record labels went bankrupt under him. Nobody called. Nobody came looking. So he quit, moved to Georgia, and sold glass for a living. But he kept a guitar in his truck. In the late ’70s, he crawled back to Nashville — older, broker, and angrier than every pretty boy on country radio. He didn’t sound trendy. He sounded like a man who’d been through hell and could prove it. Then he wrote “Chiseled in Stone” and beat every superstar in town for CMA Song of the Year. Tammy Wynette called him “the only singer who can hold a candle to George Jones.” In 1998, a stroke stole his voice. He kept writing from a wheelchair. 101 songs. Still fighting. They called him “The Voice.” Nashville called him too late. Does knowing how many times Vern Gosdin had to start over make “Chiseled in Stone” hit even harder now?

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THEY LOOKED LIKE FOUR OUTLAWS WHO COULD OUTRUN TIME ITSELF. BUT WHEN YOU WATCH THE HIGHWAYMEN SING “BIG RIVER” TODAY, THE EMPTY MICROPHONES BREAK YOUR HEART. Onstage, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Kris Kristofferson, and Willie Nelson looked untouchable. Four weathered men, four different wounds, four voices that made country music sound dangerous, honest, and free. When they traded verses on Cash’s “Big River,” it wasn’t just another performance. It was four old brothers chasing the same song down the same river, each one carrying a piece of the road in his voice. Cash brought the thunder. Waylon brought the grit. Kris brought the broken-poet soul. Willie floated above it all with that calm, aching grace only he could carry. Back then, the stage lights made it easy to believe they would always be there. That was the beautiful lie of watching legends stand side by side. But time does what no outlaw ever could: it catches everyone. Today, Cash is gone. Waylon is gone. Kris has crossed the river too. Willie is the only one left, still playing, still standing, still carrying a brotherhood that can never fully gather again. That is why “Big River” feels different now. It is no longer just a song about chasing something you cannot hold. It feels like time itself moving past four men we were not ready to lose. The song remains. But three microphones are empty. Does “Big River” feel heavier now that Willie is the only one left to sing it?

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