It was a disappointing day in Paradise,
Enough to wipe the smile of the face of a saint.
Take the wind out of the wings of an archangel.
Put the harps of the bless-ed out of tune,
And make the heavenly choir pause in their eternal Hallelujah.
When they let you through those pearly gates.
How in heaven’s name did you get past the gates?
Was there industrial action in Paradise?
Or did you just give them a very impressive Hallelujah?
As for me, I was certainly no saint.
But you pirouetted to a whole different tune,
Treading paths untrodden by the most fearless angel.
Do I have to let bygones be bygones if I’m going to remain among the angels?
I’m prepared to march straight out of those gates,
My feet moving to an unforgiving tune
And quit this second-rate paradise.
Can I lodge a complaint with a saint?
Or just sign off with a less then glorious Hallelujah?
And now you, of all people, are chanting Hallelujah.
To be fair you convinced me you were an angel.
To be fair, I happily let you in through my gates,
To be fair, I believed you were an angel.
So, how can I blame the powers-that-be in Paradise.
But, oh how soon, you changed your tune.
I can’t believe we were once totally in tune
And for the first and only time I sang Hallelujah!
In that fleeting moment of Paradise.
And now it’s you who’s among the angels!
With me on the wrong side of the heavenly gates,
Never to rub shoulders with saints.
Yup. I don’t get to brag that I play golf with saints
In this land of no tunes.
Locked for all time are the gates.
My lips could not even form the word, Hallelujah.
Among my different breed of angels
As we look across the gulf that divides us from Paradise.
Even with the patience of a saint there is no Hallelujah.
I will never again hear the tune of an angel.
In this shoddy, third-rate, disappointing paradise.