If God existed, I would\'ve shaken His hand
I\'d bid Him goodbye, set my coffee down
But He\'d slap the table hard
And I\'d turn to him
And He\'d say
\"I\'ve got a bone to pick with your collar,\"
And I\'d say
\"So take it from me,\"
He\'d laugh and take a sip from his cup
And He\'d say
\"I\'m not the one who made it,\"
And I\'d say
\"Well, sure you are,\"
I\'d turn to leave, but he\'d stop me again
And He\'d say
\"Your shoe\'s got a hole in it,\"
And I\'d reply
\"So take it from me,\"
He\'d laugh again and knock his cup from the table
And He\'d say
\"I\'m not the one who made it,\"
And I\'d say,
\"Look, I\'ve got to go,\"
And He\'d shake my hand
And as I\'m walking out the door in a caffeinated stupor, I\'d say
\"Are we here alone?\"
And He\'d reply
\"Never,\"
God has never shaken my hand, he can\'t touch me
So until he comes,
my coffee will grow cold