I think I'll go to
The Haberdashery
And pick up myself
An overcoat

The wind is bruising
Blowing through me
Winter's about
To gloat

If life is a movie
I am deep
Into its
Second hour

On occasion
I feel awful
If only movie endings
Were unlawful

The haberdashery
You might want to
Pour yourself
A sherry

As you dive
Into that
Bowl of
Cherries

it's one generation's
Obligation
To lie
To the next

Until truth
Becomes the
Only option the
Only one that's left

Much depends
Upon your baton
And how you
Pass it on along

Young minds
Are fine
With new
Information

But hearts
Still break
Despite
Communication

The haberdashery
You might want to
Pour yourself
A sherry

As you swan dive
Into that
Bowl of
Cherries

I think I'll go to
My luthier and
Have him build me
A new guitar