Wait at the Gate

The fog moves in and the fog moves out. The rhythm of the lost heart's beat. Where the hills and chills of the city's life Wrote songs where the flowers lay. It's an anxious wait At a golden gate. For the journey Only saints would take. As your ashes float On a memory boat. To be spread by the living Dead. The season of the Deadhead tour Wasn't endless after all. As the sage on stage didn't show for his Final curtain call. It's an anxious wait At a golden gate. For the journey Only saints would take. As your ashes float On a memory boat. To be spread By the living dead. Jerry G, we miss you. We wonder where you are. Were you there too late at the pearly gates Or did you find the morning star? When his crew came by and we all got High, There were mellow dreams galore. When the music died after quite a ride, Did he make it to the final shore? It's an anxious wait at a Golden gate. For the journey Only saints would take. As your ashes float On a memory boat. To be spread By the living dead. Jerry G, we miss you.