Hugger

He woke and he got down on the creaking knees He didn't know if God listened but tried His grandson was in a coma and God was asleep But he said the prayer but was afraid of the silence God was the great politician in the sky And his son Jesus would listen to the poll When there was trouble God was the first name Grabbing his coffee he humbly turned to God In his eyes it was humbly but he loved the sugar As he sat stirring and sweetened thoughts The prayers flowed with his coffee "Maybe God only listens to the regulars" And he definitely wasn't one It was years and God was famished The whispered prayer ended with death and the anger "Why did you not take me" "I have lived and gladly would take the grandson's place" The pastor warmed up and the sisters hummed The cup spilled over as the prayer of the faithful He became a hugger and he covered each drink And the Irish believed in wake and liquor He hugged the people tight and the salt became a scab And God left him there with his drink