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Meeting Woody in the Sky
Hoping to Heaven (Musical rhythm after "Tom Joad" - Don't sue.) / end of line // end of strophe I hope to heaven that when I die/ I meet Woody Guthrie in the sky/ and then upon a dust-bowly cloud/ we'll find the grace to sing aloud,/ and that the Heavens won't debar/ the using of a stringed guitar,/ though usually the angel choir/ prefers to play the harp or lyre.// When Woody asks how things have bin/ in the world of strife and sin,/ I'll say spud soup's 'bout just as thin/ as when on earth he still could sing./ (Them politicians can see through it/ Like a lump of mama's suet)// I'll say the Yanks go marching in/ where many have to die/ but again they're going to win/ a war against some Arab man,/ Osama Bin Ladin, bad guy,/ Osama Bin Ladin.// I'll not omit to mention/ George (Junior) Walker Bush,/ who has the bold intention/ to give all terrorists the push.// Robbers at home less often use/ the six gun than back then/ for they prefer the gentle ruse/ and still the fountain pen,/ and still the fountain pen.// Mick Jagger and Bob Dylan,/ may join us by and by,/ And though they sure are getting on,/ may they live long ere they die,/ may they live long ere they die.// And then we'll do an earthbound tour,/ in stadium, field or sewer,/ for like Joe Hill we'll return/ from grave or tomb or dusty urn/ as long as workers claim their right/ and songsters acclaim their fight./ till everything is globalized/ and unions have been pulverized.// Till then, till then we'll sing along,/ till then we'll sing our song.// **
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