| To Harpo Marx in heaven By Alex Caldiero You no longer play the harp, nor the paino for that matter And you speak every chance you get. But this cant be right, this cant be true? 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 know if it is a place. For all i know its a vegtable. Yet I say it with confiction. I want to go to heaven. I prey to go to heaven. Cause heaven is good. Heaven is peace, heaven is light. Where the hell do I get that ideas? I dont know anything about heaven, but what i have seen in painting and read in books, yet i know it aint made up, its real. Heaven is real, heaven is true, heaven is waiting to house the righteous. I weep for heaven. Come take me angels of god. Come take me upto heaven. I say upto heaven, not down I either know the way. Thats how i know im sure of it. Come take me oh sweet angels. Take me upto heaven where i can play any instrument. And if Harpo wont play the harp, I will gladly. I'll keep silent and 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. |