What Would This Life Be Like? Poem by Mark Heathcote

What-would-this-life-be-like
Without a holiday festival, without a party,
Without a little bit of faith and healing
If we all feared living our lives
To share what's in our hearts,
Would a plane ever liftoff the ground?
Would a son of man ever make us proud?

What-would-this-life-be-like
If all the stars just hid away,
And all the colours of a rainbow
Just disappeared tomorrow
If all the grandeur turned to grey,
Would you - be as psychedelic?
As bright or as angelic;
As they all say;

Heaven rocks,
Heaven is a Christmas-lantern
In Little Italy,
Heaven is a collide scope,
A Manhattan slide show,
A glittering sidewalk,
In Bleaker street,
A Greenwich Village,
Where all the good Catholics-
Pray to-meet-in Gods
Own sweet district.



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What-would-this-life-be-like
without a holiday festival, without a party,
without a little bit of faith and healing
if we all feared living our lives full or diluted
to share what's in our hearts,
would a plane ever liftoff the ground?
In the grand scheme of things,
would a son of man have ever made us proud?
What-would-this-life-be-like
if all the stars just never availed themselves
hid away, and all the colours
of a rainbow just disappeared tomorrow.
If all the grandeur turned to grey,
could anyone - show as much psychedelic
flamboyance as a peacock - a pink flamenco?
as bright or as angelic;
as all the great and dynamic stars say.
Heaven rocks,
heaven is a Christmas-lantern
in Little Italy,
heaven is a collide scope,
a Manhattan slide show,
a glittering sidewalk
in Bleaker street.
A Greenwich Village,
where all the good Catholics
pray to-meet-in Gods
own-sweet-district.