Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

Driving home I see those flooded fields

How can people not know what beauty this is?

I've taken it for granted my whole life

Since the day I was born

Clouds hang on these curves like me

And I kneel to the wheel of the fox confessor on splendid heels

And he shames me from my seat

And on my guilty feet I follow him, in retreat

What purpose in these deeds? Oh, fox confessor please

Who married me to these orphaned blues?

"It's not for you to know, but for you to weep and wonder

When the death of your civilization precedes you."

Will I ever see you again?

Will there be no one above me to put my faith in?

I flooded my sleeves as I drove home again