The Prayer Of A Realist Songtext

OriginalThere's no one up there there never was.
Only in vain is there a god.
There's too much suffering for him to be ..
an almighty power, a heavenly being.

My god, your god, whose god, there is no god ?

The fabric of prophet's ages old.
Drones on and gathers mould.
Gets a weekly airing from a fool on high.
Who talks and talks till his throat's dry.

A fund for a roof with a hole.
It's the money they'll save not your soul.
Persistant begging from men of the cloth.
Refuse his offer and see his wrath.

The weak ones kneel to him they pray.
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"Oh saviour come back someday".
Sinning whilst waiting for a sign.
I deny him he's yours not mine.

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