The sun High in the sky you proudly stand, A very very long way from landlord, You're orange at dusk, yellow at day, Until night, visible, you stay, When your rays are too strong Flowers wither up and die, And so do birds when they fly too high, But we also enjoy, We bring our mats and on them we lie, Until we're absolutely fried, But hours of fun, you provide, And when it gets late, For the night, you hide.