
About the song
There’s something almost cinematic about Barry Manilow’s “Sunrise.” It’s not just a song—it’s a feeling that washes over you, like the first light breaking through a long, restless night. When Manilow sings “Sunrise,” it’s not only about the start of a new day; it’s about renewal, hope, and that fragile sense of peace that comes when you realize the darkness has finally passed.
Released during the late 1970s, this song carries that unmistakable Manilow warmth—a blend of emotional storytelling, lush orchestration, and his ability to make even the simplest lyric feel deeply personal. His voice here feels lighter, yet it carries a quiet strength. You can almost imagine him standing by the window, watching the first rays of dawn spill across an empty room, thinking about love lost, love found, and the promise of another chance.
What’s so beautiful about “Sunrise” is how it captures that in-between moment of life—the space between endings and beginnings. It’s not triumphant or dramatic; it’s reflective, gentle, and incredibly human. The melody unfolds slowly, like the sky changing colors, and the lyrics remind us that no matter how hard the night was, morning always finds a way back.
This is Manilow’s gift—he didn’t just write songs; he painted emotions. His music was never afraid to be tender, to look vulnerability in the eye and turn it into something comforting. “Sunrise” is exactly that kind of song. It feels like a quiet thank-you to life, to love, to all the second chances we never thought we’d get.
Play it early in the morning, when the world is still half-asleep and your coffee’s just beginning to steam. Let it remind you that no matter how dark it gets—there’s always a sunrise waiting.
