Fog

If I had any sort of patience
I'd sit here waiting for the dawn
When you come walking out of silence
Out of the fog of my infatuation

But darling, I go running into the cold
Deep in the maze of our love
And I feel you walk by me
And I realize that I'm lost

If you had mittens for my fury
And if I had a temper of a log
We'd both be happy in the distance
No more bitter howling like a dog

But darling, I go crushing every tiny truce
Scared of the backlash of good
And I feel you walk by me
And I realize that I'm lost

When you wake up all alone
You know where I've been gone
Bruised and battered in the forest
With the fog of my infatuation