Heaven lyrics

Artist  : Woody Guthrie 
Song : Heaven



 Send "Heaven" Ringtone to your Cell 

 It’s after my work tired and weary, I lay
down to rest my eyes,

I see this world change in a whirlwind and heaven
flies down from the skies;

I see rising up from my wreckage, cities and
mansions so bright

I see my friends eyes and their faces lit up with
a bright shining light.



I walk through the sunshiny factory where dresses
and shirts are both clean;

A brother and sister are singing at work as they
watch all the wheels;

No smudge clouds of smoke hid my valley, my sight
it is clear for miles;

The mountains are all dancing happy, the trees
are waving me smiles.



There are no sickly faces about me, the children
are healthy and gay;

Not one homeless soul is around me, not lost, nor
cripple, nor lame;

The street laid in finest of plastics, the atom
is laboring as well;

No airships are crashing here by me, no dead ones
in burning hotels.



No fast cars collide nor turn over, no death
curve along my new road;

No cheaters, no gamblers, no robbers, no
graveyard, no prisons, no jails;

No gasbombs, no brass knucks, no billies, no
battles ‘tween worker and boss;

No patrolman, no officer, policeman, to ride into
crowds on his horse.



The last labor battles are ended, they’re
shown on the screen and the page;

The workhand is happy at building his world like
the play on his stage;

Profiteers are gone and forgotten, except in my
history and book,

My friends all have jobs here in heaven and sing
as I stand here and look.



I am sawing the finest made fiddle, I am touching
the richest skin drum;

I am blowing the sweetest of woodwinds and
blowing the deepest of horns;

I dance to my music I’m making, and the
world joins in with my dance;

Science and hope cures the fevers, not one grain
is blowing by chance.



Every hand works in hand with the other, and not
for power nor greed;

Every hand works to its fullest ability and is
paid in its deepest of need;

No cancer, no tuberculosis, no paralysis nor
asylums are here

No bowery, nor skid row of homeless, no eye that
is blinded by tears.



If you can only see with me this vision of heaven
I dreamed,

Then you can take new faith in working with
comrades and friends

And when I woke up from my sleeping and looked
down my raggedy street,

I go back to work with my vision and I drink down
the bitter and sweet.



I know as you hear such a dream, friend, you will
not pass it along;

I do not expect you to sing it as I do, nor to
sing such a curious song;

I wrote down this song for my own self, and sing
it now to my own soul,

But if you’ll sing songs of your
dreamings, then you will reap treasures untold.