Agnostic edge, that’s what it is
To admit that I don’t know
What is it that goes beyond
Death, where we fear to go.
Being atheist might be the same
As having belief in a god
Both admit that they think they know
And give their wish the nod
So I cling to that slivery edge
The doubt that always remains
That little bit of instinct
It’s natural, selecting the same.