So you ask me about the clouds there’s not much to it

I’ve been there I know they’re only cold and wet

Once, in a village they thought Heaven was up there

To find out they sent some pilgrims who dare

They built a great ladder – a mighty catapult

To help the pilgrims on their glorious assault

So they went up to the clouds and some time did elapse

But they found no Heaven – no angel to grasp

So up from trampoline and down from a plane

The pilgrims all returned to Earth like rain

All that was left of them was some gooey stuff

The villagers all said “They weren’t holy enough”

In my dream, I told this to a writer, recently dead

He smiled and laughed and shook his head

Then they took me to jail I think I know why

I had been to Heaven and I refused to die