Tucson Fog

The fog won't end
And it's never gonna lift, I guess
Breathe against the window facing the street
Scribble with my finger on the glass

Trying to read the horoscope of animals long extinct
Trying to read the omens in the kitchen sink

The fog took shape
Like a golem with a vengeful eye
Limbs like rippling swans' nest
At least a hundred stories high

Trying to read the horoscope of animals long extinct
Trying to read the omens in the kitchen sink

Trying to force an ending
Where everything turns out well
Don't really mind the ritual
Just the smell

Get word sometimes
From distant outposts much like mine
Places where the fog rolled in one day
Try to tell them it will work out fine

Trying to read the horoscope of animals long extinct
Trying to read the omens in the kitchen sink