A Little Concerned, That's All

Heaven's walls are covered with frost The gates are locked, the keys been lost There's snow on the drive, and the shades are down There's mail in the box, and there's no one around Angels smoke with snow on their wings Huddled in an alley, saying some of those things That you shouldn't say out loud, that no one should hear But you take a look around and the meaning is clear And the phone is dead, the bills aren't paid The housekeeper admits that she's afraid There's people on the road with maps and flares And a convoy of trucks moves from there Some attempt help but are turned away By a hand written sign, "No visitors today" A conference of saints meet in the hall Share coffee and crepes and stare at the wall Where have you gone? Don't bury your head We're getting concerned that you might be sick Satan conjures evil and when he's done There's silence from Heaven, he's thinkin' this is no fun So he makes his way to Heaven through the gates down the hall Poundin' on the bedroom door, hears nothing through the wall And the moving men want someone to sign A representative says that everything is fine When the TV camera's off, there's sweat on his brow He wonders if purgatory has his resume by now Where have you gone? Don't bury your head We're getting concerned you might be sick In the shipping room, an old lady sits At five the whistle blows, she bends her head and quits 10 miracles completed, it's been a busy day She can't keep up the pace but the work won't go away Where have you gone? Don't bury your head We're getting concerned you might be sick