Back door

 On the weekends

I go and flirt with god

I go into a trance and ascend to the higher realm

And I visit with god 

I am convinced it is in my imagination

But it swears it is real

I lay down in its grace

And feel love like ive never felt in the real world. 

It strokes my hair and calms me down

It eases all my sorrows

But I always have to leave it in the end

No one is supposed to know the back doors to gods house 

But I do

It doesn't scold me or tell me I'm not supposed to be there

It just loves me and showers me with good feelings

The whole time trying to convince me to believe

To have faith and carry my faith with me

But I just tell it to hush

Cause I am imagining all of this

And god is only in my head

It says, "then why do you keep coming here if you don't believe in me"

I say, "cause this is better than reality"

God tells me I am being stubborn

That I have more proof than anyone

Yet I choose not to believe in what I experience

I tell god that I am on drugs and that it's the back door to his house

That drugs are only figments of imagination gone rampant

God tells me that he created all of it so it's all part of the same thing

It's the same old tired argument with god

I get sick of it so I tell god to hush up and stop wasting time

I only have so little time to visit after all

Before I come down and can no longer walk these realms of being

And I will go back to my life of disbelief 

And never tell a soul that I have met god

Cause it very well may all be in my head