Swinging

I am swinging on a tire swing
Across the Devil's fire.
"La-dee-da-dee-da," I sing
As I swing ever higher.
I can hear the screaming of the damned.
Their outstretched hands reach for me,
But to me it doesn't matter.
All smiles, I am swung
Up toward the starry sky,
Then back down again grazing the raging fire.
I am not scalded.
I am not burned.
Just gently warmed on my legs and bum.
Some unknown hand keeps pushing me,
And I pray it doesn't stop.
If it does, things will get awfully hot.
Before that happens, I hope
The rope will break on an upswing
And I am propelled straight to Heaven.
Though, either way, up or down,
You better believe I'll be singing.
I'll meet my fate with a smile on my face,
And perhaps a curse under my breath
For the world, and the one who keeps it swinging.