Tell me where Jimmy Hoffa is.
Long as I can remember,
He’s been buried in my psyche.
Long as I can recall,
He’s been hidden in my memory.
American, I don’t recognize you.
All your money belongs to the rich,
And decent folk are a thing of the past.
Is Jimmy Hoffa in the air or the earth?
Was he incinerated,
Scattered everywhere and nowhere
Both at once and neither?
Perhaps at the bottom of a lake?
Crushed in some wrecking yard?
All the stories are true.
All the stories are false.
All the people talking are liars.
All the liars are telling the truth.