These are the images I arrange
To fill in my report on you
Holiness, mystery, disturbing and strange
Obscuring the point of my view

Everyone seems to know just what you are
But I never seem to break through
Forgive me please if I can't see that far
Life's dulling the point of my view

Half light, coming through the dark glass darkly
Half light, where faith and doubt remain
Half light, tattoo scars where shadows mark me
Half light, I don't expect you to explain

This is the passage I undertake
Over the epoch and phase
The terror and sweetness of history and fate
The last word on the very last page

Everyone seems to think they've got it made
That you're on a rack by the door
It's true, I don't know much except I am saved
From falling through cracks in the floor

Tomorrow I'm planning to write the great book
In which I will capture our time
Set forth the fury, the sound and the look
If I could just make up my mind

Everyone seems to think you're on their side
But I don't think you're that small
How could they see it when reason has died
We haven't a clue to it all