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John Prine – When I Get to Heaven

John Prine - A Good Time Lyrics | Lyrics.com

About the Song

If there’s one song that beautifully captures the wit, wisdom, and warmhearted mischief of John Prine, it’s “When I Get to Heaven.” Released in 2018 on his final studio album, The Tree of Forgiveness, this song became a fitting farewell from a man who spent nearly five decades writing about life’s messiness with equal parts humor and heart. It’s not just a song—it’s a celebration of everything Prine stood for: love, laughter, family, and the belief that music could make even the hardest truths feel gentle.

“When I Get to Heaven” is Prine at his most playful, imagining the afterlife not as a solemn destination, but as a rollicking, joyful reunion. He opens the track by declaring he’ll “open up a nightclub called The Tree of Forgiveness,” where he’ll sip vodka and ginger ale and smoke a cigarette “nine miles long.” The imagery is vivid, absurd, and delightful—and yet, underneath the whimsy lies something deeply moving. Prine isn’t denying death; he’s dancing with it. His voice—raspy from surviving cancer but stronger in soul than ever—welcomes us into this imagined heaven where grief is replaced with glee, and regret is outshined by resilience.

The song’s spoken-word intro, complete with handclaps and background vocals from his family, gives it a down-home, front-porch feel. It’s like hearing a grandfather spin one last tall tale, winking all the while. But make no mistake—John Prine is doing more than joking around. When he sings about forgiving those who did him wrong and kissing the lips of a girl named Claudette, he’s sharing his final thoughts on what really matters: kindness, joy, forgiveness, and love.

What makes this song so touching for older listeners is how fearlessly it faces the end. Instead of tears or silence, “When I Get to Heaven” gives us laughter, music, and celebration. It reminds us that legacy isn’t built on grand gestures, but on small moments of humor, generosity, and humanity.

This track became all the more poignant after Prine’s death in 2020 due to COVID-19. In many ways, it now plays like a message he left behind—his voice echoing with life, love, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, heaven has a good jukebox.When John Prine Gets to Heaven – Garden & Gun

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Lyrics: When I Get to Heaven

When I get to heaven, I’m gonna shake God’s hand
Thank him for more blessings than one man can stand
Then I’m gonna get a guitar and start a rock-n-roll band
Check into a swell hotel, ain’t the afterlife grand?

And then I’m gonna get a cocktail: vodka and ginger ale
Yeah, I’m gonna smoke a cigarette that’s nine miles long
I’m gonna kiss that pretty girl on the tilt-a-whirl
‘Cause this old man is goin’ to town

Then as God as my witness, I’m gettin’ back into show business
I’m gonna open up a nightclub called “The Tree of Forgiveness”
And forgive everybody ever done me any harm
Well, I might even invite a few choice critics, those syph’litic parasitics
Buy ’em a pint of Smithwick’s and smother ’em with my charm

‘Cause then I’m gonna get a cocktail: vodka and ginger ale
Yeah I’m gonna smoke a cigarette that’s nine miles long
I’m gonna kiss that pretty girl on the tilt-a-whirl
Yeah this old man is goin’ to town

Yeah when I get to heaven, I’m gonna take that wristwatch off my arm
What are you gonna do with time after you’ve bought the farm?
And then I’m gonna go find my mom and dad, and good old brother Doug
Well I bet him and cousin Jackie are still cuttin’ up a rug
I wanna see all my mama’s sisters, ’cause that’s where all the love starts
I miss ’em all like crazy, bless their little hearts
And I always will remember these words my daddy said
He said, “Buddy, when you’re dead, you’re a dead pecker-head”
I hope to prove him wrong… that is, when I get to heaven

‘Cause I’m gonna have a cocktail: vodka and ginger ale
Yeah I’m gonna smoke a cigarette that’s nine miles long
I’m gonna kiss that pretty girl on the tilt-a-whirl
Yeah this old man is goin’ to town
Yeah this old man is goin’ to town

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Nothing about the ticket said farewell. On June 19, 1977, thousands entered Omaha’s Civic Auditorium expecting what they had come for many times before: Elvis Presley onstage. There was another concert ahead, another city, another tour date. Nobody in that audience had been told they were watching a man with less than two months left to live.

Some of the saddest photographs of Elvis Presley are not the ones in which he looks tired. They are the ones in which he is smiling. By then, he had everything his younger self could once have dreamed about: money, Graceland, worldwide fame and audiences that still screamed his name. Yet success had never taught him how to replace the people and pieces of life he had lost along the way.

Some Elvis stories are remembered because they happened beneath enormous stage lights. Others survive because they supposedly happened when almost nobody was watching. One such story tells of Elvis noticing an elderly woman struggling with groceries and stopping to help her. For a man accustomed to people noticing him, the striking detail is that he noticed someone else first.

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