I seldom know what my lyrics are about. I start forming words around a melody, and when something cool pops out, I run with it. I dig the lack of preciousness in free association, and it’s fun looking down at a previously blank sheet of paper and regarding a splash of your subconscious.

But the second verse of “wake up with the sun” does speak to something specific:

a window to the street

morning agony unspoken

we’ve all got trophies on our feet

from a fate defined in consolation

Being able to afford designer footwear on account of abandoning your dreams, to me anyway, sounds about as dismal a fate as can be shat from up on high.

And what’s more horrible - enduring rejection after rejection after presumed insurmountable obstacle, or giving up before you’ve started?