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