Based on Él, Spain 1982 (live version)

Well, I’m no eschatologist
But I think I get the gist
I have left the land of mortals
Hell has a ritzy waiting room
And the Old Nick, I presume
Gives a welcome I find cordial

“Hell gives everyone two options:
Lengthy heavenly vacation
An impermanent Ascension
Billion years of great elation
– – Or a simple wooden spoon!”

Well, offer one may lead astray
What is but a finite stay
Can’t compare to what’s eternal
Bliss, evanescent as decreed
Will be dwarfed by what succeeds:
Aeons that will be infernal

Hell, my thinking could be biased
Reason for exasperation
Where utility is highest
Needs a strict evaluation
Should I pick the wooden spoon?

Gah… gah…

Tell, why the spoon? I’m still unsure
Do I need to scoop manure?
Dig a tunnel to the surface?
Knell –– gotta make my choice and soon
Slay a demon with the spoon?
Camouflaged tool for exorcism?

Hell unveils who’s strong, who’s feeble
I despise the congregation
Meet-and-greet with God for sheeple
Hubris fills my declaration:
“I shall pick the wooden spoon!”

Hell, the gates open and I’m in
Paying for a life of sin
Could be chill with ware provided
Damn, it is true it’s scorching hot
Blazing in a melting pot
I fear I have been misguided

Thought the deal was made in earnest
Skipped deceit in calculation
Twenty seconds in this furnace
Ends up with incineration
Of my precious wooden spoon!