How to See Through Fog

And the marble moon sifts jets of sluice
 from treetops down candle wax roots
 while rain towers drown the morning song
 a magpie with a mottled tongue
 And they only ever treat you well
 when you're nothing but a church bell
 and they only ever think you're good
 when you're walking like you're made of wood
 It's another friday afternoon
 you shuck the shell, peel the cocoon
 but it ain't friday on the moon
 like it ain't Kenya at the zoo
 And they only ever treat you well
 when you're walking on an eggshell
 and they only ever treat you kind
 when you're talking like you'll change your mind
 Creation's all just a hit and run
 limping to the beat of your own going numb
 a fog curling tight around a weathercock fight
 and an end to see you in hindsight.