God is dead so just sit down and enjoy this orange with me.

God is dead and Phobos looks solemnly at Earth as Mars suffocates. 

God is dead and I killed him with a SOG Bowie 2.0.

God is dead and my dreams are like stars tonight.

God is dead and 25 Christians were killed in a suicide bombing in Damascus.

God is dead and you’ve got the universe in your smile.

God is dead and the Kawahiva people of Brazil have never heard of him.

God is dead and those flowers remind me of the last time I saw my grandmother.

God is dead and you are not your past.

God is dead and I’ll always choose Coke over Pepsi in a blind taste test. 

God is dead and I’m one step closer to enlightenment.

God is dead and so is Nietzsche.

God is dead and so is my dad.

God is dead and I still have memories I can’t talk about. 

God is dead and I am the Walrus.

God is dead and this planet is next.

God is dead and the stray dogs shall inherit the earth.

God is dead and the sun’s on me like a kiss as I look over my shoulder because I can’t shake the feeling someone is following me.

God is dead and I see my mother in the mirror.

God is dead and the owner of the gyro truck looks at me like he remembers me from another life.

God is dead and America is trapped in a memory.

God is dead and Brad Pitt drinks the blood of infants. 

God is dead and the grass is still greener.

God is dead and there are new rape victims every day. 

God is dead and it’s Morphin’ Time.

God is dead so you don’t have to be afraid anymore.

God is dead and tomorrow the high is 100°F.

God is dead and poetic form is collapsing.

God is dead and I’ve never dreamed of anyone as much as you.

God is dead and the Mariana Trench just wants to be left alone.

God is dead and we’re all waiting to learn who’s going to play Rhysand.

God is dead and Donald Trump never feels safer than when he eats McDonald’s.

God is dead but the answer has always been within.

God is dead and the body is in my trunk.

God is dead and I’m with you until the end of time.

God is dead and 3 a.m. has never been more beautiful than it is right now as insomnia touches me like an angel while you’re asleep beside me and the lights outside glow through the window like a burning bush.

God is dead and Kierkegaard is rolling in his grave.

God is dead so I’ll invent a new language of suffering. 

God is dead and A.I. can’t hear your prayers.

God is dead so let’s turn out the lights, take off our clothes, and remind each other what we live for.

God is dead and you’ve taken his place.

God is dead and she looks back at me with the ocean behind her like I’m the answer to everything.