Predictable Heartbreak: The Pain of Knowing She’s Leaving (Again)
The careers of George Jones and Tammy Wynette are forever intertwined, not just by the songs they shared, but by the very real, very raw heartbreak that fueled their collaborations. They weren’t just singing country music; they were singing their own tumultuous, magnificent, and ultimately doomed love story. Their duets—from “Golden Ring” to “Near You“—were less performances and more public therapy sessions, and few tracks capture the weary resignation of their relationship better than “Cryin’ Time.”
This particular song is a fascinating example of their post-divorce genius. “Cryin’ Time” was released on their 1976 album, Golden Ring. By the time this album hit the shelves, their actual marriage had already ended (they divorced in 1975). This context is everything: they were now professionally obligated to sing about the misery they had inflicted on each other, creating art out of their personal tragedy. While Cryin’ Time was not released as a standalone single, it was a pivotal track on the Golden Ring album, which itself was an immense success, soaring to No. 1 on the Billboard Top Country Albums chart. The presence of Tammy and George singing together guaranteed an audience, and the album’s success retroactively cemented the popularity of all its tracks, including this one.
The song itself is a cover, originally written and released by Buck Owens in 1964, who took it to No. 1 on the Country Singles chart. However, when Jones and Wynette take on the material, it transcends simple cover status and becomes a prophetic, deeply personal statement. The meaning of “Cryin’ Time” is a profound acknowledgment of impending, inevitable heartbreak. The narrator isn’t blindsided by the breakup; he sees it coming, reading the coldness in his partner’s eyes and the distance in her touch. The central theme is the sad certainty of repetition, the awful knowledge that this is how it always goes. “Oh it’s crying time again you’re gonna leave me,” they sing, the word “again” carrying the crushing weight of their entire, cyclical history.
The genius of George Jones and Tammy Wynette’s version lies in the shared vocal. When George sings about seeing that “faraway look in your eyes,” his voice cracks with that unmistakable, devastating vulnerability—the sound of a man who knows he can’t stop the inevitable. Then Tammy steps in, her lush, controlled sorrow offering a heartbreaking counterpoint, a voice that sounds both regretful and resolute in its decision to walk away. This isn’t two people singing to each other; it’s two wounded souls singing about the same inescapable pain. For those of us who followed their saga—through the magazines, the radio announcements, and every agonizing album—this song felt like a window into the cold, quiet room where the final arguments took place, offering a stark contrast to the passionate chaos of their earlier duets. It’s an unforgettable, bittersweet piece of music history, created by two legends whose talent flourished most intensely when their hearts were most severely bruised.