© 2025 Irrelin. All rights reserved https://suno.com/@irrelin You said “it’s just round the corner, mate” So we chased some myth through the city’s slate Pints turned warm and the map got blurred We passed five pubs but never the word Stumbled past saints in kebab shop glass Some prophet in a tracksuit let us pass The barman winked like he’d seen it all— “Is this it?” I asked. “Close enough, pal.” God was meant to be there, just round the bend By the dodgy sign or the road that ends But we found a booth and we made it sing With the wrong kind of beer and the right kind of sin Yeah, He never showed — or maybe He did In the laugh that cracked when the pizza slid God was meant to be there, just out of sight But we ate what we had, and we lived that night One AM, and the crusts went cold The pepperoni curled, the ham looked cursed You said *"mate, it tastes like regret in grease"* I said *"that’s theology—in a slice with cheese"* The pavement tilted. Shopfronts buzzed. Neon blinked on a puddle of us. Back at the hotel—saints did fall— Bile in my throat, Shame in the hall. God was meant to be there, pint in hand With a jukebox gospel and a covers band But the night got weird, and the floor got loud And we cheered for a faith that lost the crowd Yeah, He missed His stop — or maybe He stayed As the hangover hymn in the mess we made God was meant to be there, just round the bend But He curled up quiet in a pissed-up friend Next day’s suit stank of smoke and prayer We pitched our souls in a swivel chair The client grinned like he knew our file Said, “you found your God — in the minibar aisle.” God was meant to be there, next to the gin In the glow of a pub we never went in But He trailed our steps through the night’s slow fight In the wrong pizza place and the awful light Not in the stars or psalms we fake — Just in your pride when the hangover breaks God was meant to be there — but He changed His mind And showed up instead in what we left behind So next time you say “just round the bend” I’ll follow again, with a bittered grin ‘Cause God’s not a place — He’s the chase, my friend And we found Him once, in a pub that never began
