Occam's Razor

The universe is our patent Father Mother, brother, sister, lover- Not the Moon, hanging on high; Not the far off sun in sky. It's not a senate filibuster, Or a vote, or a comet's luster. It's not an ego on a throne, Or a clean soul out on loan. You don't need a library card To access your genetic ward; Creation central birthed out you- There's nothing that you have to do. Don't wear your knees out, kneeling down; No one holds for you a crown. And karma's just a laughing jester, Who loves to goad you, and to pester. This planet earth is not the center Of a strange world's compass rose, We're just here by chance or fancy- Where our pleasant home arose. And all the fake man-made religions, And rumors of some personal god- Sprang up because we were unhappy Down here on our plot of sod. We thought it should have been more perfect; We shouldn't have to work so hard- So in our minds, we birthed another World- to go to- when we tired.