I never liked the morning sun
It shines a light on all the damage that I've done
The happy people waking up to start their day
Birds singing in the trees everything's OK
But nothing's right for me
I ain't been to sleep in almost 3 days

I never liked the morning sun
The cigarette burns and the ashes on [bad word] And all the empty places where you used to be
In the bathroom or in bed lying next to me
Now I'm here all alone
With a dirty old robe and a wide screen TV

Sunday afternoons
They always end too soon
For daydreamers like us
The pale winter sun
The northbound 101
smoky Greyhound bus

I never liked the morning sun
It makes it hard to face the man that I [bad word] Maybe next time 'round it'll all turn out OK
And I'll show up as a fireman or a sage
Or surfer who's fearless on giant waves
Or just another Joe with a wife and a home
And a kid on the way.