St. Peter

Hey Mr. Door man
Would you mind checking again
I ain't bourgeois, but I was hoping you'd set me free
Hey Mr. Door man
I've traveled through the desert sand
With no direction just my collection of things

Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here
And I got a few things on the ride here
He said, Son won't you leave em where the road ends
Then come on in, come on in

I got my jet black Cadillac
Black and white suit to match
My leopard skin loafers
And my 67 sparkle Strat
Got my Rolex to keep me on track
My favorite Stetson hat
No I can't live without 'em
Peter won't you just cut me some slack

Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here
And I got a few things on the ride here
He said, Son won't you leave 'em where the road ends
Then come on in, come on in
Come on in

Worked hard all of my days
I hand picked all these things
Now you're closing the gate
Telling me to throw it away
Yes, I punched my ticket to ride
Waited on my wings to fly
I'm in no man's land
Ain't ready to say goodbye

Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here
And I got a few things on the ride here
He said, Son won't you leave 'em where the road ends
Then come on in

Said hey Mr. Door man I'm right here
Got a few things on the ride here
He said, Son won't you leave 'em where the road ends
Then come on in, come on in
Come on in, come on



Credits
Writer(s): Eric Charles Corne, Sam Austin Morrow
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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