Examine lyrics (easily located on the Web) from his Trouble album or from Till the Sun Turns Black to find a singular insight.
When I first read the title, “Till the Sun Turns Black,” I was turned off by its depressing idea, but the French horns coupled with his signature guitar grabbed me, and I was drawn into their soft lyrical simplicity.
I listened repeatedly. To the music. To the words. To the acoustic guitar with its constant assuring rhythm. To the strings and timpani building with the emotion and pain of his voice. To the horns as they enter and frame the last verses.
Then I wondered which verse was mine? Who was I in the song?
“young and pretty . . . blooming, laughing”
“old and lonely walking”
“corporate man winning”
“working classes trudging”
But it didn’t matter for the life activity of each would recycle “till the sun turns black.” Was my life like this? Too very often, yes. I prayed that I would no longer let it be.
I don’t believe we’re cast here to the earth in a cruel way – unable to be what we’re supposed to be – unable to function or experience the world – unable to make sense of it – unable to cope – unable to know – unable to be.
But so often my energy is focused on myself. What I’m doing, what I need, what I want. What I must accomplish. Do I notice who surrounds me, give them what they might need or want? I prayed that I would know how.
No matter whom we are, how different we are, what we have known in our lives, we all breathe the need for hope. Ironically, as the song ultimately suggests, it is the “wise man simply living, loving” that in my opinion can break the monotonous march to the end supplying in “every breath he takes, eternity.”
