Is the God that I worship like an eight ball that says yes maybe or no? Or like a ouija board that points the direction to go? A family looks on forlorn and sad - the outcome will determine faithful or mad Temperature soars to 107 - passing hands not yet ready for heaven He sees himself floating somewhere overhead A haunting apparition high above his bed It's me, I think, but I seem to resemble the soul of a ghoul The Hand Trembler walks out not a word did he say Is his power for real though he failed today? The family has scorned him - Hand Trembler denied. The life of their son snuffed out as they cried You left us in agony - your power is fake Though we trusted in you, this answer we'll not take Do you have the faith to let God be God - that is the question Not a question of outcome but a question of trust For he is truly God and we are but dust There are things in this life we can never explain On the wicked and the righteous fall sunshine and rain I am not God, though at times I have tried "You don't need him" - the deceiver has lied