If I could buy a rope,
To pull the heavens you search for
Into the palms of your outstretched hands,
I would max out all my credit cards
And go broke

We look to the sky in hope,
yet down into our hands while we pray
And until this moment
I never stopped to ask why

Maybe it's because heaven is hard work.
Faith is a job with overtime without pay
Religion doesn't have hour lunch breaks
Or water cooler discussion

My resounding resilience to religious rhetoric
Has been shaken by the stirs of sleepless nights and
The calming feel of drowning in my own sorrow in public

Perhaps we look down because we are ashamed
I’ve heard that's catholic guilt.
Or maybe it’s because
Looking up to that savior stings
Because we know we will never be so mighty, so incandescent.

I think heaven isn't just a place.
It isn't just those two golden gates that greet you next to
Gabriel and Michael, and the saints of the church

Heaven is in your pocket.
Heaven is the sand in a rotating hourglass
Heaven is the smile you never get tired of seeing

It's the last breath you take before falling asleep
And the sigh of relief as you finish a day's work
Heaven is the place on earth that you can't wait to be

Maybe one day, i'll find the heaven in me.