I’ve been here before, Standing in the light. I don’t know, Why I’m here. Every time I come, I always get sent away. They have never, Let me pass through. The gate is golden, The ground is soft. I see others, Through the gate. Between the bars, I can see angels. Flying around on wings, Soft and shining. Someday I hope to join them, And share in their fun. But for now, I only dream. For my work here on earth, Is far from being done.