The fog was thicker than a stray dog with fleas.
We were leaving a Mission Bay Bar, if you please,
But the fog was so thick you could probably seize
Big hunks of it that clung to our car
Like tufts of cotton candy you see at the fair.
We had to drive with the door open so we could see
The yellow line on the street, below our knees.
This was in the 50's, on our way back to base.
Driving slowly was all we could do,
So it was a very slow pace.
There were no street lights, like there are today
Just the pitch black of night fog, as we went our way.

The days draw short
Years move along
Quite rapidly.
Much like a song,
A very sad song
Of life's short time.
Memories that fade
And are gone, sublime
Is the mood,
That I see.
Please dear God,
Please help me.

Are you real?
Can you see
That my love,
Will always be
Meant for you
But not for me,
or my life
Of uncertainty.

I feel lost and alone,
when around you.
I ask myself what
I can do,
to make your life better.