St. Peter

Hey Mr. Door man Would you mind checking again I ain't bourgeois, but I was hoping you'd set me free Hey Mr. Door man I've traveled through the desert sand With no direction just my collection of things Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here And I got a few things on the ride here He said, Son won't you leave em where the road ends Then come on in, come on in I got my jet black Cadillac Black and white suit to match My leopard skin loafers And my 67 sparkle Strat Got my Rolex to keep me on track My favorite Stetson hat No I can't live without 'em Peter won't you just cut me some slack Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here And I got a few things on the ride here He said, Son won't you leave 'em where the road ends Then come on in, come on in Come on in Worked hard all of my days I hand picked all these things Now you're closing the gate Telling me to throw it away Yes, I punched my ticket to ride Waited on my wings to fly I'm in no man's land Ain't ready to say goodbye Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here And I got a few things on the ride here He said, Son won't you leave 'em where the road ends Then come on in Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here Got a few things on the ride here He said, Son won't you leave 'em where the road ends Then come on in, come on in Come on in, come on