I must confess, I wonder why
The Christian God lives in the sky.
Up in space, among the stars,
Chilling with the moon and Mars.
I think I’d rather stay down here
Than float up to the puppeteer,
Not that I’m invited…
I suppose, were it up to me,
I’d rather spend eternity
The same way that I spent my life:
Right next to my loving wife,
And with my cats and with my dogs,
Though I could do without the logs.
I’m talking about poop.
I might like a bigger home,
And hair I never have to comb,
But if that is too much to ask,
I’ll settle for some bubble wrap.
I do not want my life to end.
Truer words were never penned.
Atheist heaven is life.