The Scientist

If the sun’s an automatic clock
And the fields just food producers;
If the workings of my mind are matched
By digital transducers;
If the air is only there to breathe
As part of an equation
And a flower is just another type
Of by proxy copulation;
If the sky and sea aren’t really blue
And a rainbow’s just refraction
And the moon is only there because
Of gravity’s attraction;
If love is just my awkward way
Of relieving sexual tension
And my heart is just a pump for blood
And God is Man’s invention;
Why am I writing this?