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
You married me to these orphaned girls
It's not for you to know, but for you to even 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