You no longer play the harp
(nor the piano for that matter)
And you speak every chance
you get.

But this cant be right.
This cant be [bad word] 
In Heaven no one has to talk
And every word is pure music.

Where did I get that idea?
Why do I have such an idea?
Heaven? I dont know anything about
the place. I dont even know
if it is a place----for all I
know it's a vegetable.

Yet I say it with conviction:
I wanna go to heaven
I pray to go to heaven.

'Cause
Heaven is good
Heaven is peace
Heaven is light.

Where the [bad word] do I get these ideas? I
dont know anything about heaven but
what I've seen in paintings & read in books.
Yet I know it aint made up. It's real. Heaven
is real. Heaven is there. Heaven is waiting to
house the righteous.

I weep for [bad word] take me, angels
of [bad word] take me
up to heaven.

I say up to heaven,
not down. I even
know the way.
That's how
sure I am of it.

Take me up, oh sweet
angels, take me up to
Heaven where I can
play any [bad word]  and
if Harpo wont play the
harp I will
gladly
I'll keep silent & not say
a word, if Harpo wont.

'Cause
I yearn for Heaven
I call for Heaven
I weep for Heaven.

Oh, sweet angels,
take me
to Heaven!