I sat at the devil's table with spoons I could not hold
The handles were longer than I could reach
The food was getting cold
I could see my neighbor sitting across from me
She was having the very same problem
Her mouth she could not feed
In the middle of this misery, a thought came to my head
Something I heard so long ago, a prophet must have said
""Heaven is not a place you go when you take your final breath.
It's not something that you believe in.
It's a different kind of death.
It's when you know the past is gone
And the future's yet to be.
You surrender to the moment and your heart is truly free.""
I looked at my neighbor
She looked back at me
We slowly turned our spoons around and we helped each other eat
The devil wiped a tear away, the first he ever cried
He got up from the table and he made his way outside
To a lonely weeping willow tree where buried in the ground
Was the heart that he'd forgotten
What's lost had now been found
He held it like a baby and he watched his wings appear
He'd always been an angel living in a house of fear
We looked out the window and we watched him fly away
I wonder if that old devil knew he'd find his heart someday
I found my heart that day.