Lyrics

The Sun's Weary Crown Blues
Lyric/music Lothar Honnens 2024


In the sepulchral hush of dawn's embrace,
The sun stretches, yawns—an ancient monarch,
Crowned in gold, its brilliance, a heavy mantle,
Radiance spilling like molten honey across the horizon.

Yet, beneath this incandescent armor,
A weariness clings, like morning fog,
Each ray a sigh, each beam a burden,
Its light waning—just a flicker, a whisper.

For ages, it has ruled the azure dome,
An orbiting deity, ablaze with duty,
Yet shadows twine around its weary heart,
Craving the solace of dusk’s tender caress.

Day after day, it battles the tempest,
Wrestling clouds that clutch at its fading glory,
And in the twilight’s embrace, it finds solace,
Draped in indigo robes, forgotten, yet eternal.

Oft, the stars, those timid echoes,
Glimmer in envy of its audacious reign,
While the sun, in weary splendor, descends,
Cascading hues of vermilion, as if to say,

"I am not just the flame, the ferocity,
But a tale of fatigue wrapped in heat,
A sentinel of time, yet yearning for shade,
To rest amidst shadows, to dwell in the quiet."

As night murmurs soft lullabies of solace,
The sun surrenders to the velvet abyss,
Awaiting the dawn—not as a conqueror,
But as a tired traveler, holding its crown.