Here’s your ticket, here’s your railway car,
Everything’s in order: you’ve got a unique chance
To see a dream of technicolour heaven:
Three centuries of non-stop cinema.

All’s ready, the photos have been taken,
Everything’s been stamped, no contraband we’re taking,
You’re now as sterile as a cherub,
In second class (not the best), but with linen.

Everything’s now come true, as was predicted.
The train takes off for heaven - straight ahead!
How we’d like, how all of us would like it -
Not to die, to fall asleep instead.

The earthly platform... Don’t whimper!
And don’t weep! He’s deaf to our wailing.
One of us has left for paradise;
He’ll meet God surely, if some kind of god there is.

He’ll transmit our salutations.
If he forgets, no matter, we’ll survive.
We’ve only a few years to live,
We’ll somehow manage and, as scheduled, die.

Everything’s now coming true, as was predicted.
The train leaves for paradise - Straight ahead!
How we’d like, how all of us would like it -
Not to die, to fall asleep instead.

It’s not everybody’s lot to sleep in heaven,
Here at any rate we’ll have a little fling:
We’ll scrap a little, sing; ah, here I sing,
Others love, still others think of loving.

They’ll leave like us, toward nothing headed,
Sleepless sons of grandsons, three centuries astride.
And may God grant, there’ll be no war,
Or we’ll have taken our descendants for a ride.

So everything comes true, as was predicted,
The train leaves for heaven - Straight ahead!
How we’d like, how all of us would like it -
Not to die, to fall asleep instead.

Narry a moan, you couldn’t care less;
On your eternal couch you sway.
But such a price, I must confess,
Not for the finest library I’d pay.

Some sort of fellow will awake you,
And usher you into a world where war and cancer,
Like Hong Kong flu, belong to the past.
Are you happy, Fool, for what awaits you?

Meanwhile, the little bell is ringing.
Bon voyage! Protect yourself from every ill.
And if up there, a God there really is,
Don’t forget to deliver him our greeting.