A mystery that was forever seen
beyond the eye of a cup of caffeine
and before the sign that explained the machine
before you’ve known your attention’s routine
has kept you from focusing on the question
fighting off by handing you a concession:
The mystery is clouded

It’s slightly annoying, and so you sigh,
standing up abruptly in your only reply,
not mentioning who might trip over the line of bonsai,
because whose fault is it if they refuse to reply
when you left every chance to allow them so
and you don’t really feel bad although
The mystery is clouded

Going home and you look to the sun
which is a bad idea, as it’s always a rerun,
and you wonder if you forgot anyone
when you left so quickly to get away from the fun.
But it’s late and it’s time to get along home,
time to ignore your obsession with the syndrome –
The mystery is clouded

It’s true you forgot the mystery there
With it’s tantalizing secrets disappearing who knows where
It will be there tomorrow, never despair
At one time or another, there is no compare
For the mystery is clouded