On the sun I rely nearly all of my might
And the moon, like the wolf for a shoulder to cry
And when it rains my eyes just roll and I walk around in socks
Until I'm pushed out the door by the hands of the clock
These meager hours and this measly wage
I don't know what's worse, going to work or growing insane
As it stands I could go either way
So I'll just hope that tomorrow makes more sense than today
Now my hands they grow tired with each passing chord
Yet they all sound the same even the strings look bored
It's a choice I have made to go down strumming
But these half-ass attempts only amount to nothing
Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun
Won't you please shine down on me?
Should I crawl out of bed before my hip bones bruise?
Should I comb my hair, or cut it loose?
Should I stumble to the store to stare at milk substitutes?
Or simply smoke my last meal here on this stoop?
Should the sun decide to shine well I guess I will too,
Should he not, then I'ma hide until he do
Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun
Won't you please shine down on, please shine down on me?