My thoughts are with Paris
But I’m not going to pray
There is no magic man listening out
For any words I can say
I’m not going to fawn to belief
In a God who refuses to act
Who stands by watching innocents die
Then demands praise after the fact
I will not bend my knee
In deference to your grace
When the only time I see you
Is when you’re spitting in my face
In Paris, people lay dying
And many turned their face to you
Then trip over themselves to justify
The nothing you chose to do
People die in God’s names
And that will never end
Until the day we awake and see
This God? He’s not your friend
What friend would take the things you love?
What friend would leave you in that hole?
What friend would leave you there to die?
What friend would claim your eternal soul?
We forever take the credit for good
And lay it at God’s feet
Yet all the bad that happens?
We blame on faith’s defeat
It’s men who get to decide
Which people live and die
To pass the blame to an unseen God
Is nothing but a lie
It’s a brave man who turns from his faith
And into truth, deeply delves
To find, we are the heaven and hell on this Earth
We are the Gods ourselves