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I'm in the fog.
I'm in the fog, I'm in the silo.
I've been in the fog,
I've fell into sorrow.
From the fog to the meadow
the cliff and then black.
In the boil of the river,
hoof bleeds in the water.
Drink from the stream after the burden,
breed with the rustic herded.
I'm in the fog.
I'm in the fog, I'm in the silo.
I've been in the fog,
I've fell into sorrow.
From the fog to the meadow
the cliff and then black.
Rust, nail, callous and hood
weathered and strong,
weathered and strong.
But when the chaos rises
and when the chaos reigns,
the chaos rises,
the chaos is chaos.
May the chaos bloom,
may the chaos rise,
may the chaos reign,
when the chaos is chaos.
Load bearing, insecure,
cross-threaded,
begging for counterbore,
begging, begging...

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