The Mists have closed ‘round myself and the naked isle
Can’t see two feet in front of my face in here
Hamstrung and hogtied, hemmed in, held back
Something is not right, I’m moaning like Madeleine’s matron

Pulling good pairs of socks out of the bin at the Free Store
Where the sun pulls back the curtain for an instant
Sticks his head through, looks all ‘round
An hour later Ra lets the fabric swish shut once more
Thanks for lighting my way while I was out
I guess it’s a cameo, now Neptune’s back

O great Confuzzler, you Piscean queen, where is my Oneness?
Isn’t that my identity, my mindset, my birthright, my style, my past
Instead I stand utterly alone inside myself
When these parts want to merge and lose myself again
And maybe that’s not okay, since if I can’t find me
I’ll have to spend my whole life looking
Seeking my little hideyholer parts like misplaced sets of keys
Instead of being everything, doing all I want

I remember these same mists in stolen moments
Tranquil and free, just trying to “be”
Ensconced was I in a brief cave of bliss
With the writing chalked on the wall
Moods and lovers bought with someone else’s credit card
And no money to pay the bill
Sir, your account is maxed out, I’m afraid

Lo the interest payments never seem to end
The wallet’s jacked into pay per view
The glyphs faded now, erased by dewy air and time
And my life also feels too still, unwritten,
As I stand within this cloud, there is no sky
My surroundings are colourless, all is ill defined