The almost full moon

And all the truth you need is a moon covered up by some clouds

And the blues it surrounds itself with.  

And the marching of vapor across the sky.

And a misty edge of nothingness floating by that.

While a giant rock rotates around little old me on an even bigger one.

And the light of the moon comes from a ball of gas behind me.

Peeking over the edge of my rock  and bouncing off the powdery white above me.

All the truth I need is up in the sky.