Dark One, I walk the streets for half the night

And see my father slide toward the grave:

Look left, and death will enter from the right

Or jump on you from some tremendous height

No matter if you run or act all brave.

Dark One, I walk the streets for half the night,

Not looking flash, not looking for a fight.

A car screams through a light: a nasty shave.

Look left, and death will enter from the right,

And if he passes it’s no oversight.

He whispers: “Go, get all that you must crave.”

Dark One, I walk the streets for half the night,

Not looking for the very things I might,

Not looking for the years that you once gave.

Look left, and death will enter from the right.

My father’s crawling upward to your light,

I tell myself, while counting years to save.

Dark One, I walk the streets for half the night.

Look left, and death will enter from the right.

—Kevin Hart