To make a long, long story terse
Be it blessing, be it curse
The Lord designed the universe
With built in obsolescence

Each twinkling little star and sun
Enjoys its own atomic run
Exploding when its time is done
With cosmic incandescence

Astronomers predict someday
Our own sun will blaze away;
They'll be a glorious display
Of sunburst helium masses

Our little planet earth below
Will join the pyrotechnic show
With blazing hydrogen aglow
And thermonuclear gasses

Thank God this great combustion day
Is several billion years away
So as philosophers all say
Why fret, why fume, why worry?

A jillion moons will wane and wax
Sit down, make out your income tax
Enjoy your life, be calm, relax
For God is in no hurry

But, oh, my friends, I have a hunch
Mankind might beat God to the punch