Passport To Paradise

by Young Believers

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02:03

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released January 28, 2013

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Young Believers York, UK

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Track Name: Passport To Paradise
Herein lies the story of a man (a lifelong sinner) and his cynical deluded deathbed repentance...

He's a martyr to a cause in which he's never believed
But belief is seeming different to what he'd percieved
'Cos the truth is nothing matters when you're facing the grave
And belief can come to different men in different ways

You can live your life in servitude or live it in sin
But The End is still inevitably drawing you in
When the only thing you're facing is eternity's dark
Unless you decide you were wrong from the start, he said

Glory Glory, Hallelujah
Young, sweet life how I hardly knew ye
Glory, Glory, there's nothing to say just
Make me a bed lord, I'm on my way

And he'd always said that everything he read was a lie
And he don't care if nothing happens after you die
Saying "How can a man part the sea they call Red?
Turn water to wine or arise from the dead?"

But the last thing he expected on the journey to work
Was a tragic appearence of the danger that lurks
But we're all just an animal and life's on a thread
So don't get complacent, it's all in your head, he says

Glory Glory, Hallelujah
Young, sweet life how I hardly knew ye
Glory, Glory, I'm dying to stay but
Make me a bed lord, I'm on my way

And his last breath's escaping as he's seeing the light
And he can't quite believe it that he's dying tonight
But he's safe in the knowledge that he's changing his ways
on his deathbed, it's just about enough to be Saved

With his bets hedged securely as he looks to the skies
And he prays "Please forgive me for the cheating and lies"
Though he's not quite converted he's decided to try
As his heart stops and life is slipping out of his eyes he says

Glory Glory, Hallelujah
Young, sweet life how I hardly knew ye
Glory, Glory, I'm trying to pray so
Make me a bed lord, I'm on my way


And for all the kids in African or Asian abodes
Who've been raised to live their lives in line with different prose
To the tall tales we're taught as Europeans in school
Well to me it ain't quite ethical obeying the rules that
condemn a man as 'heretic' or 'infadel scum'
When his birthplace decides to whom his praying is done
And you can't condemn a good man's soul to your flames
Just 'cos he's never been taught to stand up to sing and say

Glory Glory, Hallelujah
Young, sweet life how I hardly knew ye
Glory, Glory, from cradle to grave just
Make me a bed lord, I'm on my way

Glory, Glory and Hallelujah
Ain't nothing but words and I see right through you
Ain't no glory in dying today
But delusion is keeping him calm as he's on his way.
Track Name: Rats
Oh, Mr. Rat, tell us all your woes
and for goodness' sake don't bite our toes. *







*not the actual lyrics... there are none.