Hangover Dawn and Honest Light – Song [Wreath]
Verse 1Empty cups on the coffee table, glitter taped to the floor where the cola dried,Someone’s jacket on the back of a chair like it walked off their shoulders and tried to hide,Cousins crashed in a heap on the couch, party hats sideways, mouths open wide,I step past all that wreckage, crack the door, let the cold hit my face like the year asking if I survived.
Verse 2Street’s quiet except for firework sticks in the gutter that lost their fire and kept their scars,Banner on a balcony missing its last word, letters flapping over parked cars,Breath turns white while the sky trades black for that thin pale line over the bars,First sunrise crawling up behind the rooftops slow, like it has seen this party and still shows up from afar.
ChorusFirst sunrise of the year, no trumpets, no grand design,Just a tired old sun clocking in on time,Painting broken bottles and bent signs in a softer shine,Saying, “You made it through another spin, messy fool, now what do you want from mine.”
Verse 3Light catches every crack in the concrete, every stain in the snow near the curb,Shows the truth under last night’s filter, all the things the countdown never heard,Yet it warms the side of this building, hits my hands on the rail, turns the air less sharp, less absurd,And for one stretched breath I believe maybe starting over is less about magic and more about small honest words.
Pre-ChorusPhone in my pocket buzzes with late-night hearts and blurry cheer,I text back something real for once, watch the sky climb while my ghosts feel less near.
ChorusFirst sunrise of the year, no trumpets, no grand design,Just a tired old sun clocking in on time,Painting broken bottles and bent signs in a softer shine,Saying, “You made it through another spin, messy fool, now what do you want from mine.”
BridgeIt does not care about resolutions taped to fridges in squeaky ink,Does not rate my progress or my setbacks or how close I came to the brink,It only throws this light on stray cats, hungover faces, sidewalks on the brink,And leaves it up to me to use this hour for more than scrolling past the edge of the sink.
Verse 4I take one last look at the roofline burning gold, then head back inside, socks numb, mind clear,Room still smells like sugar and sweat and wishes shouted over cheap canned cheer,I pick up bottles, straighten blankets, nudge the volume down while the day grows near,First sunrise moves on down the block, and I move with it in my own small way, still here.
ChorusFirst sunrise of the year, no trumpets, no grand design,Just a tired old sun clocking in on time,Painting broken bottles and bent signs in a softer shine,Saying, “You made it through another spin, messy fool, now what do you want from mine.”
OutroWhen the sky turns ordinary blue and the coffee starts to bite,I will still remember that thin bright strip that pulled me out to meet the light,First sunrise of the year watched me standing there in yesterday’s clothes, trying to get it right,Did not promise anything, just opened up the day and left the rest to my own crooked fight.
Verse 1Empty cups on the coffee table, glitter taped to the floor where the cola dried,Someone’s jacket on the back of a chair like it walked off their shoulders and tried to hide,Cousins crashed in a heap on the couch, party hats sideways, mouths open wide,I step past all that wreckage, crack the door, let the cold hit my face like the year asking if I survived.
Verse 2Street’s quiet except for firework sticks in the gutter that lost their fire and kept their scars,Banner on a balcony missing its last word, letters flapping over parked cars,Breath turns white while the sky trades black for that thin pale line over the bars,First sunrise crawling up behind the rooftops slow, like it has seen this party and still shows up from afar.
ChorusFirst sunrise of the year, no trumpets, no grand design,Just a tired old sun clocking in on time,Painting broken bottles and bent signs in a softer shine,Saying, “You made it through another spin, messy fool, now what do you want from mine.”
Verse 3Light catches every crack in the concrete, every stain in the snow near the curb,Shows the truth under last night’s filter, all the things the countdown never heard,Yet it warms the side of this building, hits my hands on the rail, turns the air less sharp, less absurd,And for one stretched breath I believe maybe starting over is less about magic and more about small honest words.
Pre-ChorusPhone in my pocket buzzes with late-night hearts and blurry cheer,I text back something real for once, watch the sky climb while my ghosts feel less near.
ChorusFirst sunrise of the year, no trumpets, no grand design,Just a tired old sun clocking in on time,Painting broken bottles and bent signs in a softer shine,Saying, “You made it through another spin, messy fool, now what do you want from mine.”
BridgeIt does not care about resolutions taped to fridges in squeaky ink,Does not rate my progress or my setbacks or how close I came to the brink,It only throws this light on stray cats, hungover faces, sidewalks on the brink,And leaves it up to me to use this hour for more than scrolling past the edge of the sink.
Verse 4I take one last look at the roofline burning gold, then head back inside, socks numb, mind clear,Room still smells like sugar and sweat and wishes shouted over cheap canned cheer,I pick up bottles, straighten blankets, nudge the volume down while the day grows near,First sunrise moves on down the block, and I move with it in my own small way, still here.
ChorusFirst sunrise of the year, no trumpets, no grand design,Just a tired old sun clocking in on time,Painting broken bottles and bent signs in a softer shine,Saying, “You made it through another spin, messy fool, now what do you want from mine.”
OutroWhen the sky turns ordinary blue and the coffee starts to bite,I will still remember that thin bright strip that pulled me out to meet the light,First sunrise of the year watched me standing there in yesterday’s clothes, trying to get it right,Did not promise anything, just opened up the day and left the rest to my own crooked fight.