The fog rolled in
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 horoscopes
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' necks
At least a hundred stories high
Trying to read the horoscopes
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 horoscopes
Of animals long extinct
Trying to read the omens in the kitchen sink