Туман blame it on the fog

raising the power, wiring love
mending it like a wounded animal
hearing the clashes and maddening crisps of ashes
    above
I fear that it should crash wrong again
    it will blame it on me

opened window, window pane
one foot in the space, a hand seeks for a handle or hand
shattered wind and blown poplars below, under the glass
    so blue, so sane
sudden glimpses of me from every piece of the smashed pure blue
    it will blame it on me

will or shall not, anyway haven't done
there had to be who and why and what
used to be, and don't care whether am or am not
this very air tomorrow will be pleased to meet the setting sun
    they will blame it on the fog

please listen, stay where you are
please don't look as if you are going to love
please search for the wistle in the cool strange air, I am not
    that far
I've been thinking and loving and loved and I guess I was doomed
    please blame it on fog

/Morr/