A great light reflecting off the golden street
Hurt my eyes and I couldn’t see much,
So I complained, and someone gave me a pair of smoked glasses,
And I saw everything clearly.
That worked so well I asked for a cigar and got one.
I was a mite nervous about asking for a match
Because they’re called Lucifers,
But the fellow figured out what I needed and handed me a box of them.
Seeing things so well was damned humiliating,
And I should have felt glum, but couldn’t manage it.
Then an angel came up and shook my hand
And told me he thought Huckleberry Finn was a great book.
I thanked him and said I used to be a pretty smart fellow,
But I was wrong about a lot of things.
“Everybody is,”
The angel said.
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