Sunday at the drive in
They’re screening the Maltese Falcon
We snuck snacks in
So we didn’t have to pay those inflated prices
I break out the lawn chairs and ghetto blaster
Tune the radio into the close circuit broadcast
Fireflies swarm our presence
I caught three at once in my hand
I unclasp my hand and they sit ever so comfortable
I count to eleven Mississippi and they take off
I think about how this was Bogies first masterpiece but he was a master before that
The way he wears the fedora
The way he tips the hat
Ever so confident with everything he says
Pillow talk when he’s not even in bed
He tells Sam to “play it again”
I can’t help but take your hand
With the other I grab a handful of Sourpatch kids
Midnight dreams can’t compare to this
