Stairlift to Heaven

They said there'd be a stairlift up to Heaven,
but I'm stranded, down here, with the disabled for eternity.
There's no sign of a buffet, no understanding girl,
no taxi to cross the pearly threshold.

Satan said he'd love to help me out somehow,
but the health and safety bouncers said, 'No way',
and the after-life information office has closed down.
I'm in limbo with the invalids, just getting in the way.

A good samaritan said, 'Can I help you, mate?'
I said, 'No thanks, I'm the independent type',
and the able-bodied look down at the cripple in the chair and say,
'Sorry pal', 'Tough luck', and, 'Goodnight'.

On the bus replacement service bound for paradise,
the special space for spastics wasn't free,
so I hung out at the station and bought a bag of crisps.
The conclusion - death is no release.