On this  bed I lay ,
as my loved ones weep ,
I wait for what use is my body now for ,
God has my very soul .

Two doors await ,
one where Ivy creeps ,
and no handel can be found ,
the other warm and inviting and bells to charm the sound .

Yet here am I stripped of my soul ,
awaiting a body ,
or so I am told .

My soul wrenched as if it were Gods will ,
that I should wait in judgement as the sun burns still .

and the. Skies turn purple and yellow and gold ,
and slips silently beyond the earth or,
so I am told .

There are no fluffy clouds for me ,
no mystery of cosmic space ,
lost in reality ,

this is life ,
and death ensue ,
heaven and hell ,
the preacher stands ,
the fallen truth of modern man.

Earthly shadows wait  ,
for at last this world with all its jazz ,
falls silent as only it can ,
and God who sees the mortal soul stands before us one and all .

O the one they mock you say ,
In fairy stories on children’s knees ,
has a key ,
to all those who believe.

For that son now in glory found ,
with gates to heaven abound ,
and all that’s left is without Christ ,
no hope ,
or love ,
or sacrifice.