On the tides

All the alimony that we owe
To be phony if you know
Call the kettle black
Its boiling over at the back
Snake and wind, through the vines
Where I hear you ring
Who brought up the proposition
Like a childish kind of thing?

That was then and this is now
The golden goose and sacred cow
Both turned loose from the stable whose
Horse has bolted like a flying sow

Just immediately the truth was known
Like a hoof crushing a bone
Like jelly blackcurrant lake
That shakes in visions of my mistake

For the rest is yet unwritten
As the swallow flies so the bittern
Stares his snout to the sky
And asks again why he is shy