Looks like this may well be it,
Ocean's fast approaching,
an d there's this screeching sound
They found that little ol' black box,
that they all listened to
The last words that were spoken were,
I was knocking on the pearly gates,
Looked kind of other worldly,
inside there was a throne
I was let in by a stranger,
who I'd seen somewhere be fore
I thought, well it'll come to me,
Suddenly from out of nowhere,
It was my old granddaddy, he said "Son,
what are you doin' here?"
"Well it wasn't in my plans you know,
I played out all my hand and I
just ran all out of luck"
He said, "Well if you can't pot the black,
and you know it's not the cue
It may be time to ask yourself,
Now you may well just find yourself,
You know you cannot get away,
you cannot reach the door
Just try to relax yourself,
and sit down on your hips
You don't have to move too much,
and try no to lick your lips
If things seem to be working,
and she hasn't moved away
You can breathe a little easier,
If you spin around and she is gone,
and you know it's not with you
Then you have to ask yourself
I was standing by a house at night,
going up in flames and smoke
I was losing everything, it really was no joke
and there's people all around
I could see an old dog barking,
but I couldn't hear the sound
The only thing that I could hear,
which came out of the blue
Was the voice inside my own head, say
ing, "What would Bob do?"
As luck would sometimes have it, the
good Lord was in my dream
and was wearing Lincoln green
I asked if he would come again,
if the rumours were all true,
He thought awhile and spoke and said,
And as the lights they all came down,
I was standing by the stage
He was cloaked in darkness,
and his face it showed no age
just to get a better view
I swear I saw him smile and say
Then I suddenly awakened,
and I simply can't pretend,
To understand the way of things,
But if the question's simple say,
Now they're are times you ask yourself,
