God Of Convenience

It sure is convenient,

That God is omnipotent.

That God chooses the king, and the pope, and the president…

And they talk with God’s voice,

And they all know God’s plan.

It sure is convenient,

That God is a man

And that God’s righteous men, may throw hands when they’re driven,

Yet God only wants meek,

And subservient women.

It sure is convenient,

That God made women lesser,

Carved out from man’s rib, and only he should undress her,

But she must be pure, and be chaste for man’s sake, 

For she’s silly and foolish, and charmed by a snake.

It sure is convenient,

That God made you Brahmin.

That God gave you

Enlightenment.

That you’re God’s favorite shaman.

It sure is convenient,

That God has a plan,

And it’s your holy book, written by God’s own hand,

And you know it’s all facts, and that all should believe it.

You know it so well, that you don’t even read it.

It sure is convenient,

God knows just what to do,

And that God wants to kill all your enemies too…

It was you that was chosen; and they’re all hardly human,

So slaughter and starve them, and bomb them to ruin.

It sure is convenient,

God fills up your plate.

So buy up your stocks, as you finish your steak.

God wants you filthy rich; give some champagne a toast.

God only makes wealthy the ones loved the most.

It sure is convenient,

You’re God’s biggest fan.

And of all of God’s creatures, God’s favorite is Man.

Because you’re so pious, God knows you have merit.

And all of God’s Earth, is for you to inherit.

It sure is convenient,

You know just what’s at stake.

Your dogma is real; all the others are fake.

And all those lost souls, whose fate was false faith,

Will burn up in Hell, as you cross Heaven’s gate.

It sure is convenient,

That you’re such a drag,

Using doctrine to conquer,

And drive in your flag.

You service your ego, 

And God’s vindication

For power,

And mammon,

To rule over the nation.

Your superiority,

Is only a myth.

You judge those sorts of folks

Jesus likely hung with.

I hope you find God

In the flowers,

And bees,

And the soft summer winds,

As they drift through the trees.

I hope you find God,

In the smile of a child,

And in nature’s mysterious,

Unexplored wild.

I hope you find friends,

And I hope you find peace.

I hope all of your hatred,

You come to release.

So don’t force me to swallow 

What you say is divine. 

If your God isn’t Love, 

That is no God of mine.