Condemned by your blue eyes I no longer fear nor curse the the ugly monkey man in my mirror. I'll gladly go if you apply the final blow. Oh, Helga, how did you know?
And so the light goes out at least for me with one last beep on the E.K.G. In Heaven it's breakfast and God is eating pancakes. The angels are snoring; they get to sleep in late.
But I sincerely doubt they got room for me in there. Then again, doubt perhaps is the only pure form of prayer