Lyrics

God Is A Murderer:
When are you people going to wake up,
And realize God is nothing but a shit swilling murderer?
His finger’s in my asshole, and my asshole’s stuck on Earth.
A massive torture chamber that he made cause he was bored.
Everyone of us could surely live forever,
If the Lord wasn’t jacking off watching us die.
God is nothing… he’s nothing but a Murderer.
God means nothing… he’s nothing more than a…
Mother fucking, cock sucking, psychopathic killer.
I heard a creepy voice fucking mocking me,
When I was peddled as a sex slave at the age of three.
It echoes around me, and in so many forms, taunting…
You’re already dead, you’re already dead!
If H.H. Holmes had unlimited power,
He couldn’t have thought up anything crueler.
Than this brutal cage match of sodomite horror.
That wise men refer to as existence itself. 
He’s stupid, he’s lazy, he’s awful in bed.
It’s like Elmer Fudd has sentenced us to death.
He only loves us in the sense, that you love a pig,
Anticipating all the bacon it’ll make.
God is nothing… he’s nothing but a Murderer.
God means nothing… he’s nothing more than a…
Shit talking, ball rubbing, commie lovin’ killer.
The wrath of Nero. The body of Mila.
The mouth of Katie Couric screeching Hava Nageela.
The wrath of Nero. The body of Milla.
The mouth of Katie Couric screeching…
Hava Nageela. Havaaaa Nageelaaaaa!
Everyone who has kids should face a criminal charge,
Of procuring new homicide victims for God.
I don’t care about dying man, fuck itv I quit.
You win this round God, you arrogant prick.

 

My Ass Is Huge:
Holy Moley, what the heck did I do.
To make my ass so God damn huge.
Have I been sleep walking in the dead of night,
Eating sticks of butter? What a terrible fright.
I’ve been chain smokin’ bratwurst for a good long while.
This tsin mom ass is really crampin’ my style.
What treacherous gypsy has cursed me so?
My shit’s blowin’ up like a Syrian disco.
Heaven helps us, ground and the pound.
My rump is so big it’s tilting this town.
Holy shit, my fucking ass is huge.
My ass is freakin’ God damn huge.
How’d it happen, what the heck is the deal?
My blubber laden butt is getting God damn real.
I’m staring in the mirror, in shock fo sho’,
Like an ominous synth in a murder show.
People used to tell me I’m a foxy babe,
Now they picnic behind me because of the shade.
I got the gravy sweats baby, and I’m lookin’ for meat,
I must have tattooed on my forehead sucka where’s the beef.
You know I sold my soul for a ham and rolls.
If you sympathize, sing it like you mean it now.
Holy shit, my fucking ass is huge.
My ass is freakin’ God damn huge.
How’d it happen, what the heck is the deal?
My blubber laden butt is getting God damn real.
Maybe you should get to the gym you old bag?
Hu!
Maybe you should shut yer mouth you filthy hag.
Yah!
You know the ground is gonna shake when we enter the show.
Bringing a lot of booty with them.

 

The King In The North:
I pledge allegiance, on this day.
To a brazen gamble, on an epic scale.  
To seize North America, from the Yanks and Hispanics.
In the name of the greatness, who is Justin Trudeau.
His body is taut and his countenance strong,
He is the conquering hero out of stronghold Ottawa.
He feels no pity and grants no reprieves,
The Canadian way is strychnine and steel.
Line your military forces on the Midwest Plains,
Under the guise of exercises, hide your intent.
To ravage Minnesota pouring over the border.
Putting towns to the sword, with your marauding soldiers.
Then cut your way South through the beer and cheese.
Show their doughy butts how shrapnel feels.
Encircle Chicago and starve them ‘till they rot.
Tell them they have a new master… the King In The North. 
The King In The North!
To The King In The North!
I pledge the sword of warfare to you.
I will burn the landscape if it pleases you.
To The King In The North!
To The King In The North!
I give my undying loyalty to you.
I will boil my children if you ask me to.
Then we swagger down the river killing all in our way.
And pay the Folk Nation to hold down our flanks.
Batter St. Louis with artillery carnage.
‘Cause it’s fucking St. Louis, no one will even notice.
Oh Canada…
We’ll take the fat of their land.
Heed my darkened prayer, and sate my blood demand.
YAH!
Proclaim to the world that you’ve pulled up the reins,
While feigning desire to negotiate.
We’ll seize all the planes at Scott AFB,
And undertake a bold and messy scheme.
Drop a nuke on the hive of Washington DC.
Chop the head off the snake, and laugh at it squirming.
The people will need someone to step into the breech,
Enter you my conquering master… The King In The North. 
King In The North!
The King In The North!
I give my total fealty to you,
I’ll kill every single peasant if you ask me to.
To The King In The North!
To The King In The North!
All shall bow to your murderous wrath.
I’ll kill everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone!  
Push our way South, while they shudder in horror.
Ride the Rio Grande on the backs of their martyrs.
We’ll slaughter all those Texans from the Rangers to the Church.
Cause Texas mother fuckers are more trouble than they’re worth.
Then we’ll take our fucking army down to Mexico.
That place is such chaos, should be easy don’t cha know.
To turn the indigenous on the ruling elite,
And force the cartels to be our local Police.
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellowwwwww.
And all who deny it shall die…. DIE! 
The age of Justin Trudeau has begun,
Canadia takes a warm place in the sun.
Every corner has a bullhorn shouting Join Or Die.
We must praise and serve our master… The King In The North.

 

Teenage Milf:
In every single city, all over the land,
You see the stroller comin’ and you say Dod Daaamn.
With a trailer park crimp, in her dishwater hair.
Cut off jean shorts round her derriere.
She works part time at Walmart ya dig.
Her momma watch her baby when it’s second shift.
Big city lips, outta style shoes,
Go for it buddy whatcha got ta lose?
She’s a Teenage milf, no one can deny.
She’ll knock your ass out with those killer thighs.
Her boyfriend’s still in high school, but she don’t mind.
She’s a teenage milf with a rockin’ behind.
She’s a teenage MILF, anybody can see.
She mighta dropped out, but got her GED.
She likes to throw gang signs she saw on tv.
She’s a teenage milf… a teenage milf sucka!
She posts a lot of pics looking sexy in the sun.
The boys have trouble slammin’ cause her kid’s in every one.
She didn’t bother voting, cause she couldn’t find her car.
It was towed to the West Side by a brotha named Lamar.
Her rack is still bangin’, not like others you know.
Pickin’ up those kid toys really puts on a show.
The other moms are jealous.
The daddys beat their meat.
The kids don’t notice nothin’
‘Cause they’re fightin’ in the street. 
She’s a teenage milf and I ain’t gonna lie,
She’s been making out with skaters since the age of nine.
Her skirt’s so short it makes puritans cry.
That’s a teenage milf who can handle your eyes.
Teenage milf, and you better believe,
Her daddy does her taxes ‘cause he does ‘em for free.
She can’t buy beer, but smokes hella weed.
She’s a teenage milf, and you want her disease.

 

Drag The Jackal Out By His Neck: 
I’m going to give you the chance to choose how you bite it,
You want to be kicked in the head, or gutted like swine?
I see you’re not content with a paragraph in history.
This gluttonous brat wants a whole damn page it seems.
I have to admit, I freaking like your style.
Snatching power from the people with a wink and a smile.
There’s only one problem you minstrel of maggots,
There’s a CODB, and you’re about to pay it.
With a quiver he’ll be watching with knowledge of his fate.
With those dead eyes babbling ‘bout allegiance to the state.
We’ve all seen it before, so it’s time for acceptance.
Russian people grab the rope, and just fucking get on with it.
And kill him…
Fucking kill him!
Drag the jackal out by his neck.
Fucking kill him…
Fucking kill him!
Bludgeon the faggot before it’s too late.
The fox knows many things, but the mob knows just one.
It’s time to carve your ass up like filet mignon.
Perhaps you’re a mirror, of the worst in us,
Snidely seeking power over anything else?
Because we’re just like you,
We simply want to see the world burn in the name of our fucking vanity.
From the pulpit to the podium to PC in degrees,
The game’s always the same when you’re wrangling crack fiends!
With your bitch slap rappin and your cocaine tongue,
It’s like purpose just left you for dead.
And now the angry eyes of the multitude swarm in around you.
Do you think that a pandering tough guy routine,
Will save your Judas neck from the guillotine?
Do you really think a pandering tough guy routine,
Will save your scrawny neck from the guillotine?
A prophet’s story isn’t finished till his followers fucking wake up,
And come to grips it’s nothing but bullshit.
The Russian people will be greatness incarnate,
When they stab this lying dog in the street!
You can’t threaten someone living on borrowed time,
So my friend, a caustic adieu.
Before you enter the Dead Tyrants Hall Of Fame,
And watch mob justice as it BTKs you.
Kill him…
Fucking kill him!
Drag the jackal out by his neck.
Just kill him…
Fucking kill him!
Cut up the coward and stomp on his face.

 

Snacking On Silverfish:
These silverfish are crawling upon me, and what’s a body to do?
I was born a quadriplegic, these silverfish I can’t shoo.
I can’t speak reason to these meddlesome silverfish.
I beg and I plead, but they don’t care.
Maybe I can blow them away…
Pfff pff pfff fff.
That didn’t work, what else ya got mayne?
From my groin to my eyes, they’re relentless, oh my.
Fortune favors the brave, so I open up wide.
Now I’m snacking on silverfish.
Snacking on silverfish.
Devil help me and this punishment,
How else am I to get rid of them?
Chomping at the bodies of skittyish silverfish.
Snacking on silverfish?
Snacking on silverfish.
This ain’t no monkey flippin’ fiddlesticks.
I can’t believe it’s come to this.
I’m caught in the deep end, snacking on silverfish.
Tell me have ya heard, of the brand new way,
Of gettin’ rid of silverfish starting today?
You don’t need a rolled up magazine G,
Just snap yer damn teeth with a 1 2 3.
If my accountant were here, he’d probably help me out,
But he’s off in the Bahamas, balling his spouse.
The maid should be here, round about two,
But that’s little consolation while I’m sucking their goo.
You might think you’ve had it hard, but unless you’re me,
You’ve never eaten bugs out of nigh-cess-o-tee.
Apple crackle Abu Dhabi tattle tinkle tush…
My mind is gettin’ scrambled and turned into mush.
From snacking on silverfish.
Snacking on silverfish.
Saccharina what hell it is.
Momma always said there’d be days like this.
Trapped on my back, all snacking on silverfish.
Snacking on silverfish?
Snacking on silverfish.
Where’s the ranch for me to dip them in?
It’s nigh catastrophic that it’s come to this.
Legs stuck in my teeth and I’m snacking on silverfish.

 

The Czars Knew How To Handle These Wretches:
From the thumbs of the Habsburgs to the rifles of the Czars,
I give thanks everyday for the fuckers in charge.
There’s a master and servant relationship here,
That you gutter punks don’t seem to be getting.
Fuckin’ douche bags.
You should thank your lucky stars everyday,
That the Chosen Ones tolerate you slightly.
If you see someone protesting…
Hit ‘em with a brick!
If you see someone protesting…
Throw coffee in their face!
If you witness someone protesting, slam ‘em in the balls,
With a sign post, a briefcase, or a sock full of Halls.
Box ‘em in the junk like you’re Billy Cartwright.
Maybe the wretch won’t be able to have kids,
And their impudent ways will be stricken from the gene pool. 
Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
If not for stern leaders, we all would be fucked.
So quit yer bellyaching and get with the plan.
I’m sick of you weisenheimers razin’ the man.
If it were up to me, you’d all be thrown into Guantanamo Bay,
Along with your families.
Your loveliest women culled from you,
And made to dance for the Peasant King.
Listen to her motha fuckas.
When you see a fucking protester…
Punch ‘em in the teeth!
When you see a fucking protester…
Toss ‘em off a bridge!
When you see a fucking protester…
Shoot ‘em in the neck, in the face, in the ass,
In the spine, in the teets.  
Track ‘em to the hospital and pop ‘em again.
In the knee, in the arm, in the gut, in the spleen.
Take his fucking shoes and sell ‘em on ebay.
America the beautiful, America the brave,
You need to get a handle on your wayward slaves.
America the placid, America the strong,
Fuck ‘em in the ass’s and cut out their tongues.

 

Everybody Sucks Dick:
Listen up kids I got some news to impart,
‘bout how the world really works when you’re getting your start.
You might think that you can make it all purely on your terms,
Then find yourself looking up solutions to rugburn.
They don’t teach it in the classroom, but it’s whispered in the halls.
Putting lips to balls is instinct baby, au’ natural.
Try to not freak out when you’re faced with the deed,
Everybody’s gotta suck dick at some point you see.
Cleopatra sucked dick.
Princess Di sucked dick.
Even Orville Redenbacher sucked dick.
From centuries buried, heroes long dead,
The singular constant is giving head.
Obamarama sucks dick.
Frau Merkel sucks dick.
Even Martha Stewart’s bookie sucks dick.
You could be workin’ for the man, or stabbing priests for Kerry King.
The bobbing motion goes on and on and on. 
Burger King told us we could have it our way,
But to work there, I had to fucking pull a train.
Don’t ask for it nicely, grab life by the mane,
Slurpin’ and bumpin’ and grindin’ everyday.
Success is 2% timing, 1% brains,
The rest is just blowing or so they say.
So put on your hoin’ heels and that ghetto perfume.
Work your ass baby, make that cab fare home.
Suck So Hard… ah! Suck So Hard… ah!
Suck So Hard… ah! Suck So Hard… ah!
Listen up kids I got some words to take home,
‘bout how the world really works when you’re making yer bones.
Put yer pride on a mother fuckin’ Greyhound to Houston,
And Never. See. That. Chump. A. Gain.

 

Central European Mating Ritual:
I want you, in my home. I don’t want, to be alone.
You strap me down, you inject me with drugs!
I strap you down, inject you with drugs.
I boil lamb, lamb is food. It give strength, strength is good.
You strap me down, inject me with drugs.
I strap you down, inject you with drugs.
I want you, in my life. I want you, to be my husband.
You control my every move, what to eat, what to think, what to say.
I tell you what think, I tell you what say.
Be my friend, stay with me. I wash chest, don’t be free.
And then, when I show a glimmer of independent thought!
I strap you down, inject you with drugs.
Hoiyo! Hoiyo!
Strength. Love.
Hoiyo! Hoiyo!
I strap you down, inject you with drugs.
I love you, you eat meat. Sex is good, life is meat.
You control my every move, what to say, what to think.
I tell you what think, I tell you what say.
Be my friend, be my husband. Love is good, life is good.
You strap me down, you inject me with drugs!
Hoiyo!

 

Joy To The Appalling:
I won’t give up ‘till I’m livin’ the dream,
That comparisons to me, are considered an insult.
Like a cynical game of duck-duck-goose,
You’re a joke, I’m a joke, everyone’s a fucking joke.
Pull that gun from your mouth my lovely warrior,
Point it at the ones who aren’t as angry as you.
Why would anyone ever try to do anything,
When you can shit down the throats of the people who do?
Come join me on that other side,
Come join me in a place where meaning is dead.
Where bitterness poses as analytical skill,
And sour grapes passes for using your head.
Come join me on that other side,
Come join me in a place where mockery reigns.
Where getting a dig on someone’s interests,
Is more important than breathing air.
Front that chip on your shoulder as keeping it real.
Pass your bigotry off as patriot zeal.
Take an angry young motherfucker under wing,
And teach ‘em to loathe every single thing.
I never had an Altamont or reason why,
No singular moment when ideals died.
I just got older, and boring it’s true,
I’m gonna drag you down with me if it’s the last thing I do.
After taunting the pride of first time mothers,
After pissing and spitting on every foreigner.
I put my feet up with a satisfied smirk,
Knowing all who meet me, think I’m a cock.
Come join me on that other side,
Come join me in a place where feeling is dead.
Where I roll my eyes at any ambition.
You dated, worthless, sack of shit!
Come join me on that other side,
Come join me in a place where shallowness reigns.
Where sincerity is treated as the enemy,
And ridicule serves as the only wit.
Cause we’re empty, vapid, sinister, strange.
Faux intellectuals doing too much cocaine.
So I cried on the day Joseph Goebbels died…
And it don’t get better than this. 
Your mouth says absolutely nothing.
Your eyes describe even less.
As you stand in judgment, calmly hating,
Sweet Jesus this feeling is the fucking best.
Your mouth says absolutely nothing.
Your eyes describe even less.
As you stand in judgment, calmly hating,
Sweet Jesus this feeling is the fucking best.
Sweet Jesus this feeling is the fuckiiiiiiiing…
BEST!

 

Romantic Astronauts:
Oefelein… William Oefelein.
Please go down on me, tonight.
Oefelein… Lovely Oefelein.
Put your chiseled face on my bosom, tonight. 
Colleen Shipman, better watch your back.
If I catch ya near him babe your pussy is grass.
William is top beefcake, I’ll tell ya why,
Who else could make shockingly smart girls cry?
It’ll be quite the Challenge to make him mine.
But I’m up for it babe, I’m up for it babe.
Stud muffin Willie is the white girl’s crack.
He makes ‘em all quick to lay on their back.
It’ll be quite the Endeavor to tame him in the sack,
But I’m down with that babe, you know I’m down with that!
Oefelein.. handsome Oefelein.
I’ll be watching you, tonight.
Oefelein… sweetest Oefelein.
You’ll be mine and mine alone, tonight.
The moment I met him, it was meant to be.
These hoes are just obstacles to livin’ the dream.
I’m sweaty and jealous, don’t know what to do.
I heard on the street he’s banging Maya Angelou.
The last thing you’ll hear, woozy on the floor.
Is my breathe in your ear taunting… nevermore.
I’m an aggressive woman who knows what she wants.
I’m an aggressive woman who knows what she wants.
I’ll take what I want…
What I want…
What I want…
He’s mine…
He’s mine…
No he’s mine…
No he’s mine…
Keep those filthy hands off him bitch!

 

Strangled To Death By A Beautiful Babe:
Can you imagine any scenario, so positively divine?
As being throttled to death in cold blood, you bastard…
By a broad who’s fucking fine?
Wrap your mitts around my neck pretty girl,
And squeeze as hard as you can.
I like your empty gaze, and trigger temper,
Dark Angel with the delicate hands.
Put those pretty thumbs on my windpipe baby,
And push with all your might.
Watch my eyes as they turn up backwards at the cracking,
And I stumble toward the light.
If you had your choices of choices, as to how you meet the grave.
You’d spend your final moments gasping and choking, while…
Strangled to death by a beautiful babe.
Not shotgunned to death in an alleyway.
Not strapping on a bomb for the price of fame.
It’s gotta be easy and sleazy, and brutal as well.
So I can be the envy of Heaven, or a braggart in Hell.
I want a cocky murderess with blueberry eyes.
Who moves like a Slinky, and has Bollywood thighs.
To sneak up behind me, and take all I got.
Ixtab the Rope Woman is our solemn God.
Push those fingernails into my jugular darlin’,
You know you do it ever so fine.
I wanna be hard when my heart stops sugar…
Strangled to death by a beautiful babe!
Not stabbed in the back on mother’s day.
But if I could be honest, that sounds bitchin’ in it’s way.
It’s time to take the fucking hard way to Compton…
And get your ass strangled by a beautiful babe. 
If you had your choice of choices, would you…
Even. Consider. Any. Other. Mother. Fucking. Way.

 

Dead Man For A White Man:
I’ve got a very funny new game to play,
It’s called Dead Man For A White Man and it’s all the rage.
Some games are all about titles and infamy.
Some games, they’re all about clockin’ deblunes.
Boy you’re gonna know it when it’s time for the fuckin’.
This game’s about a subtle as a Reich Marshal’s boot.
The first thing you do, is go to any suburb or town,
Where pasty ass white people congregate.
Find a single white man living alone,
And track that motherfucker from his workplace and home.
Your next move Joe Boo, is roll through the local Chinatown…
Or barrio, you get what I’m gettin’ at.
Stab some random brown skin quick and clean,
And shove ‘em in the trunk of a Cutlass Supreme.
Roll back to his house, while it’s empty and calm.
Dodge the nosey neighbors as they’re walkin’ their dogs.
Lift the corpse by the limbs put your back up in it,
And drop the dead body in that stupid cracker’s basement. 
Roll on through his house, you know this shit ain’t allowed,
Place Nazi propaganda on his mantle and walls.
Between the body downstairs, and the knife in his dishes,
Show ‘em what kinda twisted fucka they dealin’ with.
Then you find a damn pay phone on a crowded street,
And drop yerself a dime to the chief of police.
Say hey, yo cuz, you know I’m feelin’ alright,
But I watched a honky draggin’ bodies in the dead of night. 
Then the pigs’ll be deployed as he’s gettin’ back home,
And he’ll stomp around flustered like he’s Sam Malone.
He can bitch all he wants, even scream and shout,
But the cops are still searchin’ cause they got the clout.
Now he’s sittin’ in the pokey all hootin’ the blues,
Cryin’ out for his momma and his sheepskin shoes.
Nobody wants to help ‘em cause he’s clearly a freak,
Lead story for the 10 o’clock local tv.
So you think you’re kinky?
There’ll be no turning back!
When masturbating at a hate crime trial’s your brand new bag.
It might not be right, but it’s funny as shit.
Watching stupid ass marks gettin’ 40 year bits.
I’ve got a very funny new game to play,
It’s called Dead Man For A White Man and it’s making waves.
It’s the brand new flavor, it’s sweeping the land.
Watch it shit kickers cause it’s comin’ to your town.

 

Schizophrenic Sugar Momma:
Would you like a shady sugar momma with tan lines and cleats,
To take you on a journey cross the seven seas?
We can screw on the starboard, and drink until dawn.
You can oil my buttocks as I sing you this song.
I had a hubby once, I ran him ragged as hell,
I’ve got a black belt in nagging and license to shrill.
So he worked all the time and became a rich man,
Then slit his wrists weeping in a tub in Japan.
Now I live alone home-bound, clawing at the walls,
Shrieking at the neighbors, and fondling the dog.
When you dance with me, you’re dancing with a vulture.
I think I need a new somethin’ somethin’ to torture.
So would you like to have a…
Shady sugar momma, with tan lines and cleats,
To take you on a journey ‘cross the seven seas?
I’ve got an archery habit, and a metal brassier,
Plus I’m a death row groupie with no sense of fear.
Would you like to have a…
Psycho sugar momma, with tan lines and cleats.
To undermine your psyche and autonomy.
It’s like I’m Mary Todd Lincoln on a moonshine bender.
Ranting and raving at my ficus Spenser.  
Then you turned up on my porch, begging salt pork and beets,
The best kind of lovin’ is a one way street.
So I took you to my bed and you cried and you puked,
I said holy Chicago this is my kind of dude.
When you wake every ‘morn, I got a gun to yo head.
You think damn dude, this hussy must be twisted as Riggs.
Cause I’m the type of psychopath you can’t lock away.
When you’re rich you’re eccentric, only po’ folks are crazed.
C’mon boy…
Give it up.
Listen to me…
Give it up.
You wanna harpy giving you gifts like these?
Walkmans.
Wing tips.
Kumquats
Mesh shirts
Kerosene.
Hawk poop.
And chicken tartar.
Bra sweat.
Bear traps.
Confederate soft caps.
Axes.
Live badgers.
And exploding cigars. 
Geto nipples staring at yah left and the right.
Have you ever seen a puppy’s head in a vice?
I know you’re broke as a joke, and got no other choice.
So c’mon and face misery in the shadow of meeeeeeeeee.
Would you like to have a…
Shady sugar momma with tan lines and cleats..
To take you on a journey cross the seven seas”
Tell me daddy beat you, and your uncle’s in jail.
And I’ll lick your face fondly, cause I dig it for real.
Do you wanna have a psycho sugar momma, with tan lines and cleats.
To take you on a journey through a busted psyche?
Do as I say, your maniac vixen.
Pretty boyfriend, you’re just a dirty piece of chicken.

 

Fuck Your Politics: 
All those homophobic ladies on the right say yah.
All you lethargic ass hippies on the left say yah.
I know you think it’s important, to rant like a mope.
But we don’t care about politics, so fuck it yo.
The headaches come and hit me like the screeching of a train,
Every time you blather ‘bout the changes you would make.
Like nails on a chalkboard, or kicks in the shin…
Lowest com dom coercion feels like chewing scraps of tin.
The two party system’s just a hatred machine,
Convince side A to blame side B for every imperfect thing.
Fe to the Fi to the Fo fucking Fum,
I don’t give a hootin’ holler bout your candidate son.
Take a wrecking ball to everything, I don’t even care.
If the world blows up tomorrow man, I don’t fucking care.
So go ahead and break your backs arguing with each other.
I’ll be doin’ blow, bangin’ hoes, not givin’ a damn.  
We don’t give a flying fuck about politics!
It’s just a bunch of rabid monkeys always throwing their shit.
So put it in yer pipe, and smoke your unearned pride…
We don’t care, we don’t care, we just don’t even care.
We don’t give a flying fuck about politics!
You’re not a friggin’ hero in a sacred club.
Just a boring loser, and here’s the rub,
We don’t care, we don’t care, we truly do not care.
Congrats, you memorized a propaganda phrase…
The only question is why your eyes are looking so insane?
Do really think in a thousand years, anyone will give a damn…
You fucking troglodyte!
Your personal opinions mean less to me,
Than a gum wrapper tossed on the pavement in Leeds.
This ain’t no motherfuckin’ world war 2.
Just some geriatric chumps with dollar store kazoos.
Bow to all the misanthropic lobbyists.
Bow to all the Super Pacs always spending a grip.
You wonder why I don’t believe a vote counts for dick?
Just watch the game come together and you’ll know that it’s rigged.
You simple minded peons and your need to blame others…
I’m talking to you, and you, and especially you.
Stop leaning on your crass political clansmen,
To manufacture archetypes for you to hate.
So we don’t give a flying fuck about politics!
With it’s phony civility and wannabe guile.
Take your patronizing questions and stick ‘em in yer eye.
Cause we don’t care, we don’t care, we just don’t fucking care.
We don’t give a flying fuck about politics!
Walkin’ down the street with a Cadillac strut.
Your baby is ugly and probably a slut.
And we don’t care, we don’t care, who even fucking cares?
It’s totally meaningless.
You people are just self centered dolts,
That need to think you are in a great conflict to give validation to your pathetic lives.
You make me want to physically and mentally vomit you directionless saps.
Fuck yer mommas.   
Holy Hell to the Skaaaaaaaaank…  We don’t care!

 

Single People Are Cooler Than Married People:
Tell me are we fucking in the heat of the night?
I put the notion to ya and ya damn near wanna fight!
You say heck no, no way, your finger you wag…
You tell me that you’re married what a driggity-drag!
Marriage is for squares I can tell ya fo real,
I don’t need paper from the government to ball with a zeal.
Just one day at a time… one grind at a time…
Don’t need no ball n’ chain, straight wreckin’ all the time. 
Single people are cooler, that’s all I have to say.
There is… Literally. Nothing more…
To say!
You can crash on they couch, and it ain’t no thang.
You can make out with ‘em drunk, and it ain’t no thang.
Single folk be livin’ all c’est la vie…
Puttin’ pedal to metal and riding free!
Cop a ride to the airport, their excuse list is short.
You can call ‘em short notice to cover at work.
They still know drug dealers, and the digits of hoes,
So stick with single people, all you proles oughta know…
 Married people suck, that’s all there is to say…
There is… Literally,
Nothing more… To say!

 

Kneel Before Jehovah You Scoundrel:
When the Earth shakes beneath your dirty feet.
When the dust rises in the sky before you.
You’ll hear the thunder of a million boots marching.
And know Jehovah’s Army has arrived.
Your culture is wrong.
Your skin tone is wrong.
Your favorite pizza toppings suck.
Your religion is wrong.
Your dance moves are whack.
How dare you even fucking breathe.
We like to sell the problem, wrapped in the solution.
Preaching freedom of choice along with stringent demands.
And yah, we get it, trust us we get it.
It’s called a joke at your expense, that’s what makes it hilarious.
Lick the feet of America you no good bastard.
Lick the feet of Jehovah you two bit scallywag.
Put the lime in the coconut and shove it up your ass.
Something something something something Freedom Riiing.
Everyone of us realize this story’ll be told,
In black ink on black paper as the world implodes.
Jesus chose us to rule the globe,
Vanquishing those who resist our control.
Cause it’s the lamest invasion force… Yes siree.
But would you rather have Hollywood flakes, or the UAVs?
I’m only gonna give you a second to get down on your knees.
Here comes the shady invasion force… Nigga please.
You can either have a carrier task force, or a pyramid scheme.
The salient point to remember is you better get on your knees.
Every Commie on the planet should be- Put to death.
Every Muslim on the planet should be- Put to death.
Everyone who’s not American should be- Put to death.
Place a bullet in that jive talker’s back of the head.
You’ve gotta burn down your temples, replace them with mine,
The UN must be the place where courage dies.
Cause this white man’s burden is a heck of a thing,
Gotta claim you’re with ‘em, then spit in their face.
Perhaps you think you should avoid the advice,
Of a Blue Water Power that thinks it’s a cowboy?
We demand you be like us, body and mind.
Hold onto your schwanz and enjoy the ride.
Listen up creeps, you’ve made a grave mistake,
You were born within the wrong fucking nation state.
Superiority is something you’re born into cuz.
Merit is a myth and it always wa-a-uhz.
Listen up creeps, you’ve made a grave mistake,
You were born within the wrong fucking nation state.
If these greasy non-Americans had any pride,
They would do the right thing and commit suicide. 
Remember my friends that old lesson of Rome?
An empire decays slowly after firmly taking hold.
So put your knee pads on and step up to the plate.
Only blind submission’s gonna get your ass paid.

 

Shut The Fuck Up About Your Grand Kids:
I don’t wanna hear about your grand kids report card,
all I wanna hear is that they’re dead on the street.
Recoil. Recoil.
When the coppers ring your door bell.
Recoil. Recoil. 
When reporters work the beat.
The Amber Alert is gonna ring off the fucking hook ya’ll.
I gotta roast beef slicer.
For Little Johnny’s face.
I gotta rusty bread knife.
For Suzy’s face.
If I can’t have them, cold mother fuckers then no one can.
Why do you think, I never got me a husband?
Why do you think, I never raised me no child?
No gentleman caller ever left me at the altar,
cause no gentleman caller, ever left my house alive.
No bastard of a she-hag is gonna mock me again,
not the blood from his pulse,
not the brains on his chin.
If anyone listening wants to make the world right,
then go out and kill the first child you see tonight.
 
Gang Raped By Boxcar Hobos:
Do you know what it’s like to be gang raped by hobos?
I can show you with there arthritic hands.
It’s not a pleasant feeling I assure you.
It’s like being tangled in farm equipment,
covered in Night Train and sweat, and pistachio shells.
And it never seems to end no matter how much you scream,
no matter how much you thrash, no matter how much you beg.
When you’re being sodomized in a dumpster,
life feels very crass indeed.
Gang raped by boxcar hobos.
Is it what Hitler lamented in the heat of the night?
Gand raped by boxcar hobos.
It must be what Roosevelt meant when he said we have nothing to fear,
but horny, homeless mad men.
And the screw drivers they hold to our trembling necks.
If you’re lucky you’ll pass out within 60 seconds,
if their breathe doesn’t get you, the urine smell will.
 
An Orgy Of Death Starring You And Me:
Every night I have a premonition,
of Putin sucking a dick, with a gun to his head.
I lust to witness nuclear combat.
Fuck this whole planet with a broken broom stick.
I’m gonna take a giant shit on the President’s desk,
a message daring him to launch from the Sons Of Iran.
Every boomer on the planet will darken the sky.
And I’ll be beside you laughing and pointing.
Frail human, where will you be?
When the Akula missiles shower your metropolis.
Frail human, what will you feel?
When your loved ones are nothing but contaminated meat.
Some people kill you with kindness, but I prefer cat shit.
Behold the Chinese Ambassador’s guts at his feet.
Have you ever shocked a hen with a stun gun?
It’s like a ballerina dancing on PCP.
Will you beg for the dog meat on your hands and knees?
Fucking beg for the dog meat, beg for the dog meat.
Every hippie on the planet’s gonna cry into their soy.
And I’ll be beside you laughing and laughing and laughing
and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing.
Frail human, where will you be?
When the Trident rocket decimates your populace.
Frail human, what will you feel?
When you’re stabbing your neighbor for a can of peas.
 
The Truth About Rest Homes:
Oh Warren Buffet, you know you broke my heart,
when you threw me from your buggy back in 1908.
So now I’m stuck in this deranged assisted living facility,
where everyone is revenge fucking everyone else.
Step 1.
Entering a rest home is key.
Step 2.
Fuck the first person you meet.
Step 3.
Fuck the second person you meet.
It’s fucking easy as hell, just creak your bones to the beat.
Now when Gladys slept with Walter,
and then he slept with me next day,
she fucking slept with Orin and Bartholomew,
just to mess with Walter’s brain.
It’s like a Greatest Generation dystopia,
where everybody wants to die.
Now their angrily balling each other senseless.
It’s time to burn this shit hole to the ground.
Shit holes/Rest homes.
Where all these Mormon sex fiends keep on pressuring me.
Shit holes/Rest homes.
When a Bob Dole porn tape is the first thing you see.
Mindlessly groping, mindlessly tugging.
I’m gonna pass out the syphilis like unwanted fruit cake.
Cause their mindlessly groping, mindlessly tugging.
You know I’m fucking your father cause I like ’em ugly.
 
Waddling Decrepit Wisconsinites:
What’s up with these waddling decrepit Wisconsinites?
Their backs are broken.
Their knees are shot.
Their hands a calloused and cover in rot.
And they all… hate… their lives.
What’s up with these waddling decrepit Wisconsinites?
Their will is broken.
Their dreams are shot.
Their sex drives are calloused and covered in rot.
And they all… curse… their Gods.
When I’m stuck behind you in a parking garage,
it’s like I’m oh so close, yet ever so far.
When I’m trapped behind you at the grocery store,
your massive ass is like a goalie fuckin’ stoppin’ me cold.
When I see you on the street and you’re boppin’ along,
like two ham shanks shufflin’ to a metronome.
It’s like the world’s in slow motion how the hell can they breathe?
It’s like they’re constantly drowning how the fuck can they breathe?
What’s up with these…
Waddling decrepit Wisconsinites,
are they counting down the seconds ’till they finally die.
They’ve friggin’ given it up,
they’re fucking phoning it in.
They’re old, they’re souless, they’re dead.
Fuck ’em.
 
Everything We Do Revolves Around Alcohol:
We’re some desperate ass bitches with allot to forget.
Shucking brain cells like pulled pork, praying for death.
If you’ve got a fucking bottle, then you’ve got a fucking friend.
So join us for a bender in the outer rings of hell.
At the DMV. Beating maitre des.
On the shitter reading AARP.
I tend to chug it like a cuckolded Irishman.
So everything we do, revolves around alcohol.
Every Arbor Day. At your nephew’s play.
At your mother fucking daughter’s wake.
I’d burn my candle at three ends if I could.
Cause everything we do, revolves around alcohol.
The falcon of booze lands on my shoulder,
whispering sweet nothings every single time.
Because life is boring, and short, and useless.
So everybody at the rest home’s getting whiskey dick tonight.
At impeachment trials. Torching crocodiles.
Slamming shots with Odin in the Hall Of The Slain.
The Red Army’s courage is the answer to everything.
So everything we do, revolves around alcohol.
On a garbage barge. Scamming Master Card.
Killing bums for the change in their pants.
Cause we’re vagrants without a God or a conscience.
So everything we do, revolves around alcohol.
Drink you fucking maggots cause that’s all that you’re good for.
Drink you mother fuckers you got nothin’ to live for.
Drink you stupid shits cause you’re dull when you’re sober…
So drink, drink, drink.