“I said, ‘Elvis, I’m going to ask you one thing before we part company here. If you die, do you think you’d go to heaven or hell?’ And he got real red in the face, and then he got real white in the face, and he said, ‘Jerry Lee, don’t you ever say that to me agin.’ I said, ‘Well, I won’t even say it to you again.’ Hahahaha!” He laughs, mockingly, at Elvis’s country accent. “He was very frightened.”

Jerry Lee Lewis til The Guardian

Det er vel sådan, det ofte er i Guds eget land. De gudsfrygtige spørger sig selv og andre om, hvor de lander efter dødens indtræden. I himlen eller i helvede? – i følge den kristne logik. Jeg er helt enig med Jerry Lee Lewis i det synspunkt, at musik – også rockmusik – ikke kan være djævlens værk. Eller også er det måske djævlens værk – og så er det en umistelig del af livet. Lige som så meget andet, fx alkohol og piger. Nu er det ikke noget, jeg går op i, det der med et  liv efter livet. Jeg synes livet er før døden, og det er det, vi skal koncentrere os om. Her er nok at gøre. Og skal vi endelig holde fast i den gamle tankegang, så kommer jeg automatisk til at tænke på Rick Nelsons gamle hitsang “Garden Party”. Efterlivet som en havefest..

I went to a garden party to reminisce with my old friends
A chance to share old memories and play our songs again
When I got to the garden party, they all knew my name
No one recognized me, I didn’t look the same

CHORUS
But it’s all right now, I learned my lesson well.
You see, ya can’t please everyone, so ya got to please yourself

People came from miles around, everyone was there
Yoko brought her walrus, there was magic in the air
‘n’ over in the corner, much to my surprise
Mr. Hughes hid in Dylan’s shoes wearing his disguise

CHORUS

lott-in-dah-dah-dah, lot-in-dah-dah-dah

Played them all the old songs, thought that’s why they came
No one heard the music, we didn’t look the same
I said hello to “Mary Lou”, she belongs to me
When I sang a song about a honky-tonk, it was time to leave

CHORUS

lot-dah-dah-dah (lot-dah-dah-dah)
lot-in-dah-dah-dah

Someone opened up a closet door and out stepped Johnny B. Goode
Playing guitar like a-ringin’ a bell and lookin’ like he should
If you gotta play at garden parties, I wish you a lotta luck
But if memories were all I sang, I rather drive a truck

CHORUS

lot-dah-dah-dah (lot-dah-dah-dah)
lot-in-dah-dah-dah

‘n’ it’s all right now, learned my lesson well
You see, ya can’t please everyone, so you got to please yourself