Nina Simone

Sinnerman

Escalating dread turning into ecstatic, near-hysterical release

Video: NinaSimoneVEVO on YouTube

Lyrics

Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to?
Sinnerman where you gonna run to?
Where you gonna run to?
All on that day
Well got to run to the rock
Please hide me, I run to the rock
Please hide me, run to the rock
Please hide here
All on that day

But the rock cried out
I can't hide you, the rock cried out
I can't hide you, the rock cried out
I ain't gonna hide you there
All on that day

I said rock
What's the matter with you rock?
Don't you see I need you, rock?
Good Lord, Lord
All on that day

So I run to the river
It was bleedin', I run to the sea
It was bleedin', I run to the sea
It was bleedin', all on that day
So I run to the river
It was boilin', I run to the sea
It was boilin', I run to the sea
It was boilin', all on that day

So i run to the Lord
Please hide me, Lord
Don't you see me prayin'?
Don't you see me down here prayin'?
But the Lord said
Go to the Devil, the Lord said
Go to the Devil
He said go to the Devil
All on that day

So I ran to the Devil
He was waitin', I ran to the Devil
He was waitin', ran to the Devil
He was waitin', all on that day

I cried, power, power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)

Bring down (power, Lord)
Bring down (power, Lord)
Bring down (power, Lord)
Bring down (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)

Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)

Oh yeah
Oh yeah
Oh yeah

Well, I run to the river
It was boilin', I run to the sea
It was boilin', I run to the sea
It was boilin', all on that day
So I ran to the Lord
I said Lord, hide me
Please hide me
Please help me, all on that day
He said, hide?
Where were you?
When you oughta have been prayin'

I said Lord, Lord
Hear me prayin', Lord, Lord
Hear me prayin', Lord, Lord
Hear me prayin', all on that day
Sinnerman, you oughta be prayin'
Outghta be prayin', sinnerman
Oughta be prayin', all on that day

Up come power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)

Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (Power, Lord)
Hold down (power, Lord)
Go down (power, Lord)
Bring down (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)
Power (power, Lord)

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na-na

Woah, ho
Ha-ha-ha-ha
Ha-ha-ha-ha, oh Lord
No-no-no-no, ma-na-na-na-na, don't you know I need you Lord?
Don't you know that I need you?
Don't you know that I need you?

Lyrics via LRCLIB (community-contributed). Rights remain with the songwriters and publishers.

Timed (LRC) version available

A synced lyric was found for this track and is stored with the record.

The analysis

A traditional African-American spiritual rebuilt by Simone into a ten-minute chase sequence: a sinner runs from judgment on the last day, and every refuge he tries refuses him. The lyric is almost entirely verbs of flight and rejection, and the middle of the song abandons narrative altogether for a chanted call for power. It is less a song about damnation than an enactment of panic that keeps escalating until language breaks down into wordless syllables.

judgment day futile flight refused sanctuary the failure of late repentance invocation of power apocalypse imagery

Who's speaking

Two voices braided together: an outside narrator who taunts the sinner with the question of where he will go, and the sinner himself in first person reporting each failed escape. The sinner is entirely unreliable about his own position — he keeps insisting on his need and his praying while the answering voices point out he has left it too late. Simone slides between accuser and accused without marking the change, so the interrogation feels internal.

What happens

The song opens with a question, not an event: where does the guilty man go when the day of reckoning arrives? He tries the rock first, which speaks back and refuses him. He argues with it, indignant, as though the created world owed him cover. He runs to water, which offers no help either — first bleeding, then boiling, a landscape already in the process of ending. He appeals directly to God and is redirected to the Devil, who is not surprised to see him; the Devil is the one destination that has been waiting. From there the story stalls and the song becomes pure invocation, a repeated cry for power to descend. When the narrative resumes, the water is boiling again, the plea to God is repeated, and this time the answer is a question about where he was when there was still time to pray. The final stretch collapses into syllables and a bare, repeated admission of need.

How it's built

Cyclical rather than developmental. Short call-and-response verses, each ending on the same phrase pinning the action to that one day, so every stanza slams into the same wall. The refuges are ordered as a descent — stone, water, God, Devil — and the pattern is that each one answers. The long chant section functions as a break in the storytelling and a break in the fiction: the story cannot advance, so it turns into ritual. Then the verses restart, more compressed, and the piece ends not with resolution but with dissolution into vocables and a plain statement of dependence.

Section by section

Opening interrogation

Begins with a question hurled at the title character. No scene-setting, no explanation of the sin — the song assumes guilt as a given and starts at the moment consequence arrives. The address form makes the listener a potential defendant.

The rock

The first refuge is the most concrete and the most humiliating failure: a stone talks back. Notably the sinner does not accept the refusal but argues, insisting on his need as though it were a claim. This flash of indignation is the closest the song comes to characterization.

The waters

Two passes over the same image, bleeding then boiling. The shift from blood to heat suggests the world is not just unhelpful but actively cooking, and the doubled treatment stretches time — the running is going nowhere, so the song circles.

Appeal to God, then the Devil

The narrative's cruelest turn. The plea is answered, and the answer is a dismissal to the opposing party. The Devil requires no verse of his own beyond a single fact: he was already waiting. Where every other refuge refused, this one accepts, which is the punishment.

The power chant

Story stops; ritual begins. A single word traded back and forth with responding voices, sometimes turning into commands for something to be brought or held down. In performance this is where the piece becomes a communal event rather than a tale, and the ambiguity is productive: the cry could be for salvation, for destruction, or simply for force to be shown.

Return of the verses

The same material returns tightened, and God's answer sharpens from a redirection into an accusation about timing. The taunting voice from the opening returns to tell the sinner what he should have been doing — the song closing the circle on itself.

Coda

Words give out. Syllables, laughter-adjacent sounds, and then a stripped repetition of needing the Lord. It reads as a man past argument, reduced to the one true sentence he has, with no indication it will be answered.

Craft

anaphora and refrain
Nearly every stanza is built on repeated openings about running and closes on the same tag about that day. The repetition mimics the mechanics of a chase — same motion, new obstacle — and denies the listener any sense of progress.
prosopopoeia
The rock speaks. Giving voice to inanimate refuge is the song's central move: the sinner is not merely unable to hide, he is actively rejected by the material world, which has taken sides.
escalating parallelism
River, sea, Lord, Devil form a ladder of appeals, each shorter and more hopeless than the last. Bleeding water gives way to boiling water, intensifying the same image rather than replacing it.
apocalyptic allusion
The rock that will not hide and the waters turned to blood draw on biblical judgment imagery — the plague of blood, the plea for mountains to fall and cover the guilty. The song assumes a listener who recognizes these without explanation.
glossolalia / breakdown of language
The chant on a single word, then the drift into nonsense syllables and laughter-like sounds, moves the piece out of narration into possession. Meaning is replaced by force.
dramatic irony
The sinner keeps citing his own prayer as proof of sincerity; the divine reply reframes it as too late. His best argument is used against him.

Reading it

Read straight, this is a judgment-day spiritual about the impossibility of last-minute escape: the moral is the line about when you should have been praying. But Simone's arrangement pushes it somewhere else. By extending the piece far past the point of narrative need and building the center on a chant for power, she turns a warning into a rite. The sinner's terror stops being a lesson and becomes an experience the performance forces on everyone present. Given Simone's civil-rights context, many listeners hear a second layer: the world's refusal to shelter the guilty scans as a promise that the powerful will find nowhere to hide on the day of reckoning, and the repeated call for power to come down reads as a demand for judgment on the unjust rather than a sinner's plea. The text supports either — the sinner is never identified — and the tension between them is much of the song's charge. A third, more psychological reading takes the whole thing as internal: accuser and accused are one mind, and the flight is from a self-knowledge that every direction returns.

Context

"Sinnerman" is a traditional African-American spiritual with many earlier recorded versions; Simone did not write it, and she has said it came from her upbringing in the church, where it was used at revival meetings to bring people to repentance. Her father was a preacher's-household figure and she played piano in church from early childhood, which is audible in the call-and-response construction and the driving left hand. Her long version, from the mid-1960s, is the definitive one and has been widely used in film and sampled in dance and hip-hop; I would not want to state a specific chart history for it. The lyric as circulated varies between performances, since much of it is improvised in the moment.

Listen for

  • The moment the rock answers — the only dialogue in the first half, and the point at which the world stops being neutral
  • How the water image changes from blood to boiling on the second pass, intensifying rather than moving on
  • The transition out of storytelling into the chanted single word, and how the backing voices convert a solo lament into a congregation
  • The reversal in the second half, where the divine reply shifts from redirection to an accusation about timing
  • The final descent into nonsense syllables and laughter-like sounds, and the bare admission of need that follows

Generated by claude-opus-5 on 16 August 2026. Stated confidence: high.

About Nina Simone

Nina Simone

Nina Simone was an American composer, concert pianist, singer, songwriter, and civil rights activist. Simone's bearing and stage presence earned her the title the High Priestess of Soul.

1933 - 2003 / United States

Full biography and catalogue