A man knocked at the Heavenly gate
His face was haggard and old
He stood before the Man of Fate
For admission to the fold

‘What have you done,’ St Peter asked
‘To gain admission here?’
‘I’ve been in the planning business, Sir,
For many and many a year.’

The pearly gates swung open wide,
Saint Peter touched the bell.
‘Come in and choose your harp,’ he said.
‘You’ve had your share of hell.’