Where do we go from here? A question just about everybody asks. There is that question of faith, and there is that question of how do you even know if you're good anyways? I hesitate to say I know, because in reality I do not. The people around me are difficult to measure, perhaps I shouldn't.
Where do we go from here? A question just about everybody asks. There is that question of faith, and there is that question of how do you even know if you're good anyways? I hesitate to say I know, because in reality I do not. The people around me are difficult to measure, perhaps I shouldn't.
Mortality is there, but I am here. They have gone, I have survived, but somehow, I cannot say if I go where they have gone. I am Dismas, all I know is that I feel they don't deserve their fate, as they may have been better than I, and they and their gifts are leaving us. What cause do I have to be here? And they are not? But, if I am Dismas, my time is also short, and no matter where I go, somehow it would be nice if some soul who knew better than me knew something of me, even for one moment, remember me when you get there, will you?
Staring out, waiting for my own end, not really sure where I am going, whoever you are, you seem like you know, and I do not. Remember me when you get there. You're sure to be ahead of me in line, and I'm sure there won't be room when I get there.
Remember me, when you get to where you're going---which you say, it's where you're from. Because I feel as my life went, I won't even know when or if I get there, or how I got there. All around me now, the people may mock you, but not I. I saw that you knew where you were going, and yet just a moment ago, we were suffering the same together. You seemed less inclined to let that suffering get you down, you even had enough energy left to give me a good word. Faith in me? I'm not entirely sure, but your faith is pretty clear. You know where you're going. No need to have any faith in me, I witnessed it, I called it like is, that is all, and that doesn't secure anyone's salvation. But I saw you, for that one moment, and you looked back. Maybe you truly did know, and I probably didn't, but you had a good word for me, that's how I know.
Dismas didn't need a reminder of mortality. He was well on his way and he knew it. Moments away, really, looking up at thet other... convict... next to him. I don't know, maybe you are who they say you are, and I guess my fate is my fate, but it seems not right for you, but what can I do? Like many probably, the better of us all is treated the same as the rest of us, worse sometimes. If there's One above even you, loss isn't in my thoughts, it's about how I feel that you've been treated unjustly. I don't know if I've been treated justly or unjustly, too much loss to measure that. But you, no, you didn't deserve this, but there you are. Shining.
Remember me when you get there, for I've always known I am nothing, and there's nothing I can do, except one little thing.... I won't join in with Gestas. Maybe it's the only thing I'm sure of. I won't join in with the crowd, they're simply being a mindless herd. For a single moment, I know, I'm not Christ, but perhaps I did get to see him on that cross, for a few seconds, and perhaps for those few seconds, since I could be the last one with him, maybe by watching I can learn something. I mean it's worth a try.
So when you get there remember me, will you? I mean nobody else up there probably does, or maybe nobody remembers because they never got there. What time do we have left? A few moments. I barely feel like I know what to do with those moments, but I'll keep looking, as it all went by, it sometimes seemed like it mattered, but what do I know. I ended up on a cross whether I liked it or not. I am Dismas. I am not Christ. But I am not Gestas, that I know. That may not be much, and that may be all I truly know. No need to feel sorry for me, but the humanity in this one single moment might be enough. I told you I don't know. Even at this moment, you turned to me with a good word, the only and the last good word I'll probably ever know. Maybe that's enough.
Where do we go from here? A question just about everybody asks. There is that question of faith, and there is that question of how do you even know if you're good anyways? I hesitate to say I know, because in reality I do not. The people around me are difficult to measure, perhaps I shouldn't.
Mortality is there, but I am here. They have gone, I have survived, but somehow, I cannot say if I go where they have gone. I am Dismas, all I know is that I feel they don't deserve their fate, as they may have been better than I, and they and their gifts are leaving us. What cause do I have to be here? And they are not? But, if I am Dismas, my time is also short, and no matter where I go, somehow it would be nice if some soul who knew better than me knew something of me, even for one moment, remember me when you get there, will you?
Staring out, waiting for my own end, not really sure where I am going, whoever you are, you seem like you know, and I do not. Remember me when you get there. You're sure to be ahead of me in line, and I'm sure there won't be room when I get there.
Remember me, when you get to where you're going---which you say, it's where you're from. Because I feel as my life went, I won't even know when or if I get there, or how I got there. All around me now, the people may mock you, but not I. I saw that you knew where you were going, and yet just a moment ago, we were suffering the same together. You seemed less inclined to let that suffering get you down, you even had enough energy left to give me a good word. Faith in me? I'm not entirely sure, but your faith is pretty clear. You know where you're going. No need to have any faith in me, I witnessed it, I called it like is, that is all, and that doesn't secure anyone's salvation. But I saw you, for that one moment, and you looked back. Maybe you truly did know, and I probably didn't, but you had a good word for me, that's how I know.
Dismas didn't need a reminder of mortality. He was well on his way and he knew it. Moments away, really, looking up at thet other... convict... next to him. I don't know, maybe you are who they say you are, and I guess my fate is my fate, but it seems not right for you, but what can I do? Like many probably, the better of us all is treated the same as the rest of us, worse sometimes. If there's One above even you, loss isn't in my thoughts, it's about how I feel that you've been treated unjustly. I don't know if I've been treated justly or unjustly, too much loss to measure that. But you, no, you didn't deserve this, but there you are. Shining.
Remember me when you get there, for I've always known I am nothing, and there's nothing I can do, except one little thing.... I won't join in with Gestas. Maybe it's the only thing I'm sure of. I won't join in with the crowd, they're simply being a mindless herd. For a single moment, I know, I'm not Christ, but perhaps I did get to see him on that cross, for a few seconds, and perhaps for those few seconds, since I could be the last one with him, maybe by watching I can learn something. I mean it's worth a try.
So when you get there remember me, will you? I mean nobody else up there probably does, or maybe nobody remembers because they never got there. What time do we have left? A few moments. I barely feel like I know what to do with those moments, but I'll keep looking, as it all went by, it sometimes seemed like it mattered, but what do I know. I ended up on a cross whether I liked it or not. I am Dismas. I am not Christ. But I am not Gestas, that I know. That may not be much, and that may be all I truly know. No need to feel sorry for me, but the humanity in this one single moment might be enough. I told you I don't know. Even at this moment, you turned to me with a good word, the only and the last good word I'll probably ever know. Maybe that's enough.
Remember me when you get there.