I’ve got a plastic Jesus hanging from my rear-view mirror.
I worry he’s looking at me rather than the road ahead.
Nevertheless, I feel much safer than I did without him.
I know that this impression of comfort is all in my head.

It’s amazing what we can believe and how it becomes tangible.
Let’s face it, all of the religions on Earth can’t all be right.
If buying shares in the after-life is a way to explain our fate.
Who am I to put a dampener on things and snuff out the light?

People take great comfort from believing there is a God.
Me, I find it hard to believe except when I’m facing a crisis.
As Lennon said, “Whatever gets you through the night.”
It was faith that got me through that dreadful bout of enteritis.

Maybe we do just turn to dust like decaying loft insulation,
And we end up on a great landfill site in the sky.
There I go again holding on to the vestiges of faith.
I’ll probably spontaneously combust after saying good-bye.

Lots of eminent scientists believe there is a hereafter.
They’ve obviously managed to reconcile logic and belief.
They’ve put aside their evidence-based theories for faith.
If I end up at two pearly gates what will I feel? Perhaps relief.