I am trying to formulate lyrics about Heaven, as in, "what do you really expect?" And if you're really into church retreats and 3-day youth rallies in Huntsville, wouldn't it be likely that the saints would be doing that in incessant fashion for all eternity? You'd have a youth minister with Tony Robbins' blindingly white teeth who talks for an eon, and you would have to stay and listen because there would be no pretexts that would enable you to leave, like "I have to get ready for work" or "I'm feeling queasy." You'd be stuck for the duration, and the pews up there will be made of a substance harder than anything available on Earth because Heaven has its own periodic table of the elements.
On the other hand, everyone gets a golden Cadillac the length of Japan and his/her own road to drive it on, and it never needs gas or oil or tire pressure monitors.
"A Cadillac? Really?"
"No, you don't understand. It's the Ultimate Cadillac, God's own Cadillac, stretching to the horizon! And if you still had eyes, they would be blinded by the sheer shiny exterior of the thing and the gold brick highway it's blazing down. What’s more, you would be an invisible film of an electron cloud barely able to peer over the dash of this beast, but it won't matter because you'll be driving on your own luxurious personal highway and won't be bothered with other cars, toll booths, or road signs in undecipherable Urdu."
Because it's Heaven, you won't be compelled to learn things like Urdu. In the earthly existence, contemptuous elitists attempted to mandate secular education, but Heaven will completely emancipate you from that competition, pressure and unrest. Knowledge and the striving for such will not be necessary. As a matter of fact, there will be no pressure gradients to constantly regulate and relieve. Every liquid, solid and gas will be utterly stable and will be composed of bonds saturated with divine sacrificial love, not that dirty love stuff.
Death will serve as the ultimate frontal lobotomy. There will no longer be competition or desire for anything. The saints will have no physical bodies, which is what my preacher told me to explain the heavenly phenomenon of souls whose hosts have been ingested by wild animals. I've also been told that I would recognize my grandfather by some means, like maybe a tie pin shaped like Hickman County on his wrinkled naked self, or perhaps all I would see is a tie pin from which his presence would be implied. In Episode 21 of Season 3 of “Gilligan’s Island,” a similar thing happened to Gilligan when he drank the Professor’s disappearing potion by mistake, but there were still indications of Li'l Buddy’s presence at all times. I can envision my invisible grandfather teasing me and moving misshapen Play-doh pieces around the big crafts activity table up there, but there'd be that tie pin hovering in a comforting way, and I'd know it'd be Grandpa.
There will be no competition, no jealousies, and no stuff to be needed, but rather, the experience forever and ever will be one long pedantic youth rally sermon, and Heaven's lobotomy will permit you to actually enjoy it and not just act like you're liking it. In Heaven, you can tell the truth, and the truth is all positive information, all the time. A friend of mine described Heaven as a place where everyone's blithely retarded, and maybe that's right.
The movie theater in Heaven will permanently show "Left Behind," and all the saints will be constantly moving while in the theater, each yielding his respective seat to the next guy, and disrobing to clothe the guy next to them who gave up his robe to the next fellow, who in turn gave up his robe, and so on, until every saint is seated, clothed, and completely unconcerned regarding the plot or characters on the screen. There’s still one oblivious old saint who remains buck naked in the aisle seat, but no one in the theater will complain about the disruption and the nudity, because it's a perfect place where everyone is content and happy forever. There will be no angry movie patrons in Heaven. Besides, everyone will have seen the movie about a zillion times.