An empty church

Unlike us… mechanical in nature

God’s an artist… a creator

Doesn’t stick to rules

Like slaves or fools

If he met ya, he’d probably, hate ya

 

Could have stopped you apes, at fermented grapes

Drove you bananas, fed up and trapped in trees

Stuck you where the Sun don’t shine

And wiped away with leaves

 

God doesn’t exist

Yet, I insist…

 

I still believe in baby Jesus spreading goodwill, to this day

His fans share good news, and words of love, with grace

Or at least help folk, find like-minded people, in disarray

Who care for, a whole lot more, than just the marketplace

 

So… If you love literature, history, or the arts

And mass debate, without the hate, of politics…

A church that’s empty, is the best thing to see… in any city

Other than the road, back out to the sticks

 

 

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