Dear God
I hope you’re not mad I don’t believe in you anymore
I can imagine you’re a little disgruntled
But surely you must have noticed you’re getting a whole lot less emails
You see, there are now pubs in churches and churches on television
Angels on motorbikes and bibles for sex
Also there is Stephen Hawking
Who tries to prove you, or destroy you
Does the world disappoint you?
If I peek outside the window will it look like rain?
Perhaps you can send down a daughter this time
Teach us a lesson
Or was the other one not sent by you but by
The voices in his head?
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