IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF SIXPENCE Lyrics – PROCOL HARUM

IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF SIXPENCE Lyrics evoke a late night filled with rumination and longing. The “wee small hours” setting suggests introspection and vulnerability in the isolation of night. There is a sense of waiting and unfulfilled desire as the singer remains awake preoccupied with a search for meaning. The lyrical imagery of nature references like birds, gardens and stars implies a romantic yearning for an almost mystical connection. The tone conveys wistfulness and restless enchantment in the dreamy space between darkness and dawn. Overall the song captures the pensive magic of being suspended in time late at night, when unanswered hopes and thoughtful melancholy emerge amidst the quiet. There is a search for transcendence behind the mundane. Do read IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF SIXPENCE Lyrics below.

IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF SIXPENCE Lyrics

In the wee small hours of sixpence
And the lighted chandelier
Stands a rusty old retainer
Whose old eyes are filled with tears
For his master, good sir galant,
Who is now off to the wars
And although his eyes are crying
We know grief is not the cause
And if grief is not the reason
He must be of sterner stuff
And his sword though old and rusty
Must be blunt as sharp enough

In the wee small hours of sixpence
And the broken window pane
Stand the remnants of the evening
Who are waiting all in vain
For the crowing of the cockerel
Showing morning is not night

But the air is filled with silence
And the daylight is not bright
But still darkness is no reason
We are men of sterner stuff
And our swords though old and rusty
Still are blunt as sharp enough.

In the wee small hours of sixpence
And the hat-stand in the hall
Waiting only for the morning
Shadows flitting ‘cross the wall
And perhaps that old retainer
Whom now giving of his all
May have once been just as we are
And now has no face at all.
But still grief was not the reason
He was made of sterner stuff
And his sword though old and rusty
Still was blunt as sharp enough.

IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF SIXPENCE Lyrics – PROCOL HARUM

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