The Carmike

If how it goes is a grand goodbye and final picture show
Then be, in the end, in The Carmike with a hip flask and your friends

and we all wanna find that life, like kissing
at least for a while fills up what’s missing
But I don’t know everything

Later, when shuffle man arrives to tuck you in
Try to recall how your father’s face was handsome after all

and I hope that death, like love and like Jesus
Will steal our breath, if they come, I believe it
But I don’t know everything

What to do?
We are nonplussed on the subject of what’s true
I’ll turn a corner when I can say I’m unafraid of being wrong again

Saying “I don’t know”
There’s no shame in it
Or I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost