Lyrics below:

                Havoc in Heaven
               (Robbie O'Connell)

Oh there's havoc in Heaven now Harte has arrived
All the trumpets are still, all the harps thrown aside.
Saint Peter's perplexed, "What the Hell's going on?"
Wherever he goes someone's singing a song.
There's a gang of them out on the porch every night
And they're singing away 'til the first morning light.
With a break for the breakfast they're at it again
And the session goes on 'til God only knows when


Luke Kelly is there, singing Dirty Old Town,
Paddy Tunney does two, Craigie Hill and Tam Brown.
Harte sits in the centre directing the show
With the bold Eddie Butcher and the mighty Joe Holmes,
Bess Cronin and Heaney join in on each chorus,
Then Zozimus gives them the Finding of Moses.
Bert Lloyd sings the shanties, McColl the Scots songs,
And no one complains that they go on too long.


There are playwrights and poets and songwriters too,
As for politicians, well there's only a few.
They come from all over, the truth I must tell,
They're lining them up to be drop-kicked to Hell.
James Joyce's fine tenor is soaring tonight
Though his language is giving some poor souls a fright
While Beckett and Kavanagh, Shaw, Wilde and Yeats
Are murdering the chorus of Finnegan's Wake


There's a Tricolor flying above the main gate
And St. Peter is making the crowds outside wait.
When the next song is over, he'll let in a few,
Provided they promise to sing one or two.
All the saints gather round, and they're shouting for more
When Saint Patrick belts out Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore.
"And tell me," says Harte when he meets with Saint Paul
"Did them old Ephesians ever write back at all?"



Poor Sinatra and Crosby are taking it hard
All their fans have deserted to listen to Harte
Now the word has got round, and crowds gather each day
To hear Con Greaney singing the Road to Athea
Imagine the shock to see Nioclás Tóibin
And John Lennon together sing Dunlavin Green
Janice Joplin's there smooching with Bobby McGee
And Elvis is helping Frank find the right key


So if you don't like singing then go down to Hell
They'll be glad to receive you, they'll treat you right well
You'll find generals and presidents, bishops and kings
And not one of them has the first clue how to sing
They'll hand you a banjo or accordion for free
You can sit there and practice through eternity
You can beat your bodhrán 'til you wear out the skin
While you're waiting for Thatcher and Bush to check in


So there's havoc in Heaven now Harte has arrived
All the trumpets are still, all the harps thrown aside
St. Peter's perplexed, "What the Hell's going on?"
Wherever he turns someone's singing a song
So here's a good tip for when your turn comes round
Remember this detail if you're heaven bound
Though you'll still need to keep an eye out for those sins
You'll now have to know a few songs to get in

This song was written in 2005 by Robbie O'Connell after the death of one of the most influential singers of recent years.

Jerry