lirik lagu clayton jennings - god is real
[verse 1]
you can’t take god from me
please don’t take god from me
because without him, who would i be?
is that a selfless question, or a selfish one?
somehow i made it about me
these thoughts tell me i’m inadequate and incomplete
same thing, i obsess over heaven
just two percent of my thoughts pertain to the present
eight percent is stuck in the past
and ninety on what happens after wе pass
death has always been the elеphant in the room
some people want it never, others wish it were soon
time changes people, some switch from one into two
now they have a pest for a pet and a skull for a zoo
change comes and goes, but sometimes it stays
both ways, depending on life’s up and down days
and all~around slow days
i want sun rays, you could keep the snow days
unless a snow day means i don’t have to show face
i hate it ’cause i could go no place
and fit in without feeling so fake
it’s hard to converse when most are asleep and so few are awake
sleep is death’s cousin, and i’m a son of god, so it’s hard to relate
i sit in my room and write poetry then hide it away
“what would people say?” i used to lie there awake
didn’t know they’d say, “i was saved by your words”
didn’t know they’d turn to me when they were at their worst
i saw it as helping the hurting, they see it as courage
i try to push people on purpose into their purpose
so the devil would have less people to fill up his he~rs~s
so they could live and god could be worshipped
so they don’t give their time to the serpent
so they don’t give their mind to a sermon
filled with everything and anything but salvation through jesus
churches would rather use us than reach us
they pass plates to fleece us but don’t know how to feed us
goodbye religion, for me it’s jesus, jesus, jesus
i want a church who cares about people in pieces
a church who doesn’t equate people with pieces
to the game they’re still playing
[verse 2]
you can’t take god from me
please don’t take god from me
and if god isn’t real, then give me poverty
take all my property, leave me standing there awkwardly
’til people show up pointing and mocking me
“the fool who believed, look! he’s a mockery!”
i’m not equipped to be the author of western philosophy
i’ll leave the searching to philosophers like socrates
you claim wisdom talks to you, well, god talks to me!
a human is being the only toy of god, so we must live playing, socrates
a human was made in the image of god, so we must live praying, me
one thing only i know
and that is that i know nothing
except god is real
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