Sunday Song

Sunday Song: Strawman

 

Thanks to Bruce

We who have so much to you who have so little
To you who don’t have anything at all
We who have so much more than any one man does need
And you who don’t have anything at all, ah

Does anybody need another million dollar movie?
Does anybody need another million dollar star?
Does anybody need to be told over and over
Spitting in the wind comes back at you twice as hard?

Strawman, going straight to the devil
Strawman, going straight to hell
Strawman, going straight to the devil

Strawman
Strawman
Strawman
Strawman, yes

Does anyone really need a billion dollar rocket?
Does anyone need a $60,000 car?
Does anyone need another president?
Or the sins of Swaggart parts 6, 7, 8 and 9? Ah

Does anyone need yet another politician
Caught with his pants down and money sticking in his hole?
Does anyone need another racist preacher?
Spittin’ in the wind can only do you harm, ooohhh

Strawman, going straight to the devil
Strawman, going straight to hell
Strawman, going straight to the devil

Strawman
Strawman
Strawman
Strawman, yes

Does anyone need another faulty shuttle
Blasting off to the moon, Venus or Mars?
Does anybody need another self-righteous rock singer
Whose nose he says has led him straight to God?

Does anyone need yet another blank skyscraper?
If you’re like me I’m sure a minor miracle will do
A flaming sword or maybe a gold ark floating up the Hudson
When you spit in the wind it comes right back at you

Strawman, going straight to the devil
Strawman, going straight to hell
Strawman, going straight to the devil

Strawman
Strawman
Strawman
Strawman

~~

Sunday Song: Here’s to the State of Mississippi…

 

Thanks to Bruce

Here’s to the state of Mississippi,
For Underheath her borders, the devil draws no lines,
If you drag her muddy river, nameless bodies you will find.
Whoa the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes,
The calender is lyin’ when it reads the present time.
Whoa here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of,
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of!

Here’s to the people of Mississippi
Who say the folks up north, they just don’t understand
And they tremble in their shadows at the thunder of the Klan
The sweating of their souls can’t wash the blood from off their hands
They smile and shrug their shoulders at the murder of a man
Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

Here’s to the schools of Mississippi
Where they’re teaching all the children that they don’t have to care
All of rudiments of hatred are present everywhere
And every single classroom is a factory of despair
There’s nobody learning such a foreign word as fair
Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

Here’s to the cops of Mississippi
They’re chewing their tobacco as they lock the prison door
Their bellies bounce inside them as they knock you to the floor
No they don’t like taking prisoners in their private little war
Behind their broken badges there are murderers and more
Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And, here’s to the judges of Mississippi
Who wear the robe of honor as they crawl into the court
They’re guarding all the bastions with their phony legal fort
Oh, justice is a stranger when the prisoners report
When the black man stands accused the trial is always short
Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here’s to the government of Mississippi
In the swamp of their bureaucracy they’re always bogging down
And criminals are posing as the mayors of the towns
They’re hoping that no one sees the sights and hears the sounds
And the speeches of the governor are the ravings of a clown
Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here’s to the laws of Mississippi
Congressmen will gather in a circus of delay
While the Constitution is drowning in an ocean of decay
Unwed mothers should be sterilized, I’ve even heard them say
Yes, corruption can be classic in the Mississippi way
Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of

And here’s to the churches of Mississippi
Where the cross, once made of silver, now is caked with rust
And the Sunday morning sermons pander to their lust
The fallen face of Jesus is choking in the dust
Heaven only knows in which God they can trust
Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of
~~

Sunday Song: The Vicar and the Frog

 

Thanks to Bruce

There once was a very very holy vicar
‘ Was walking alone the street one day,
When he heard a little voice sayin’: “Excuse me vicar,
O help me vicar”, the voice did say.
The vicar look’d about, but all he could see
Was a tiny little frog sitting on the ground.
“O my little froggie did you speak to me?
Was it you who spoke when I heard that sound?”
“Oh yes!” said the frog “Oh help me vicar,
‘Cause I am not a frog, you see!
I’m a choir boy, really, but a very wicked fairy
Put a nasty spell on me!
The only way, that I can be saved,
From this wicked spell” the little frog said,
“Is for someone to take me,
And put me in the place, where a very holy man
Has laid his head!”
So the vicar took him home,
Put him on ‘is pillow,
And there he lay till the break of day.
The very next morning: a blessed miracle!
The spell was lifted, I’m glad to say!
For there was a choir boy in bed with the vicar,
And I hope you think this all make sense,
‘Cause there, my lord, and members of the jury,
Rests the case of the Vicar.
~~

Sunday Song: Jesus’ Brother Bob

 

Thanks to Bruce

If you haven’t heard of me I wouldn’t be surprised
I bet you know my relatives their names will never die
My mother is a saint and my brother is a God
But all I am is Jesus’ brother Bob

CHORUS

Jesus’ brother Bob, Jesus’ brother Bob
A nobody relative of the son of God
If only I’d been born just a little sooner
I’d be more than the brother of God junior

I have to pay the ferry to cross the Galilee
But not my brother, no not him, he walks across for free
I finally get to work ’bout a quarter after nine
Already he’s turning water into wine

CHORUS

One day when I was home I heard a mighty roar
There were a thousand people right outside the door
“Help us Jesus, help us” came the cheering from the mob
Then they got a look at me, “Oh nuts, it’s only Bob.”

CHORUS

He died upon the cross, I thought that I was free
Finally people would get to know me for me
This was my big chance to finally get ahead
The next thing you know he’s rising from the dead

CHORUS
~~

Sunday Song: Send Me Your Money…

 

Thanks to Bruce

Lights, camera, silence on the set
Tape rolling, 3-2-1 action
Welcome to the Church of Suicidal
We’ll have a sermon and a wonderful recital
But before we go on there’s something I must mention
An important message I must bring to your attention
I was in meditation and prayer last night
I was awakened by a shining bright light
Overhead a glorious spirit, he gave me a message and you all need to hear it
“Send me your money,” that’s what he said
He said to “Send me your money”
Now if you can only send a dollar or two
There ain’t a hell of a lot I can promise to you
But if you wants to see heaven’s door
Make out a check for five hundreds or more
“Send me your money”, do you hear what I said?
“Send me your money”

Now give me some bass, um yea that’s how he like it
Now let’s have some silence, for all you sinners
Now give me more bass, yea that was funky
Now take them on home Brother Clark, send me your money
Here comes another con hiding behind a collar
His only God is the almighty dollar
He ain’t no prophet, he ain’t no healer
He’s just a two bit goddamn money stealer
Send me your money
Send it, you got to send it
Send me your money
You hear what I’m saying?
You got to send it, send it
Send me your money

Now how much you give is your own choice
But to me it is the difference between a Porsche and a Rolls Royce
I want you to make it hurt when you dig into your pocket
Cause it makes me feel so good to watch my profits rocket

Send me your money
Now dig in deep, dig real deep into your pocket
I want you to make it hurt!
We’ll take cash, we’ll take checks
We’ll take credit cards, we’ll take jewelry
We’ll take your momma’s dentures if they got gold in them
So whose gonna be the new king of the fakers
Whose gonna take the place of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker?
See my momma, she didn’t raise no fool
Cause you can’t put a price on a miracle
Amen
~~

Sunday Song: Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me…

 

Thanks to Bruce

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ?
Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me.
I wait for delivery each day until three,
So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ?

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?
I’m counting on you, Lord, please don’t let me down.
Prove that you love me and buy the next round,
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?

Everybody!

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

That’s it!

~~

Sunday Song: The Good Book…

 

Thanks to Bruce

Life is like an ocean voyage and our bodies are the ships
And without a moral compass we would all be cast adrift
So to keep us on our bearings, the Lord gave us a gift
And like most gifts you get, it was a book

I only read one book, but it’s a good book, don’t you know
I act the way I act because the Good Book tells me so
If I wanna know how to be good, it’s to the Good Book that I go
‘Cos the Good Book is a book and it is good and it’s a book

I know the Good Book’s good because the Good Book says it’s good
I know the Good Book knows it’s good because a really good book would
You wouldn’t cook without a cookbook and I think it’s understood
You can’t be good without a Good Book ‘cos it’s good and it’s a book
And it is good for cookin’

I tried to read some other books, but I soon gave up on that
The paragraphs ain’t numbered and they complicate the facts
I can’t read Harry Potter ‘cos they’re worshipping false gods and that
And Dumbledore’s a poofter and that’s bad, ‘cos it’s not good

Morality is written there in simple white and black
I feel sorry for you heathens, got to think about all that
Good is good and evil’s bad and goats are good and pigs are crap
You’ll find which one is which in the Good Book, ‘cos it’s good
And it’s a book, and it’s a book

I had a cat, she gave birth to a litter
The kittens were adorable and they made my family laugh
But as they grew they started misbehavin’
So I drowned the little fuckers in the bath
When the creatures in your care start being menaces
The answers can be found right there in Genesis!
Chapter 6, Verse 5-7!

Swing your partner by the hand
Have a baby if you can
But if the voices your head
Say to sacrifice your kid
To satiate your loving God’s
Fetish for dead baby blood
It’s simple faith, the Book demands
So raise that knife up in your hand!

Before the Good Book made us good, there was no good way to know
If a thing was good or not that good or kind of touch and go
So God decided he’d give writing allegoric prose a go
And so he wrote a book and it was generally well-received

The Telegraph said, “This God is reminiscent of the Norse.”
The Times said, “Kind of turgid, but I liked the bit with horses.”
The Mail said, “Lots of massacres, a violent tour de force.”
If you only read one book this year, then this one is a book
And it is good, and it’s a book!

Swing your daughter by the hand
But if she gets raped by a man
And refuses then to marry him
Stone her to death!

If you just close your eyes and block your ears
To the accumulated knowledge of the last two thousand years
Then morally, guess what? You’re off the hook
And thank Christ you only have to read one book

Just because the book’s contents
Were written generations hence
By hairy desert-dwelling gents
Squatting in their dusty tents
Just because what Heaven said
Was said before they’d leavened bread
Just ‘cos Jesus couldn’t read
Doesn’t mean that we should need
When manipulating human genes
To alleviate pain and fight disease
When deciding whether it’s wrong or right
To help the dyin’ let go of life
Or stop a pregnancy when it’s
Just a tiny blastocyst
There’s no reason why we should take a look
At any other book
But the Good Book
‘Cause it’s good
And it’s a book
And it’s a book
And it’s quite good!

Good is good and evil’s bad
And kids get killed when God gets mad
And you’d better take a good look
At the Good Book
~~

Sunday Song: Come Down Jehovah

 

Thanks to Bruce

Come down from your mountain, Jehovah,
My neck is terribly stiff.
Hitch up your robes and your raiment, Jehovah,
Climb down to the foot of your cliff.
And drink from the stream that was always beneath you,
Drink from our wonderful font.
‘Cause paradise is right here on earth, Jehovah,
What more could we possibly want?

Come down and talk amongst friends, Jehovah,
Come down and sit at your ease.
Walk through the woods and the valleys, Jehovah,
Sail upon glistening seas.
Pass on what you’ve learnt to the children, Jehovah,
And listen to what they have to say.
They say, ‘Paradise is right here on earth, Jehovah,
Not tomorrow, but right now, today.

And Devil come up from your fiery furnace,
Come up and show us your face.
There’s nothing you can teach us of evil or hatred,
We don’t have right here in this place.
There is nothing so evil as man in his mischief,
Nothing so lost or insane.
And bring your demons up, too, so we’ll know it’s not you,
But it’s us who must carry the blame.
It’s us who must live with the shame.

Come down, come down from your mountain, Jehovah,
Come down and be with us here.
Heaven and hell and the life ever after,
It’s such a beguiling idea.
But our spell on this earth is much richer, Jehovah,
Richer than you’ll ever know.
When it comes time to leave it behind,
We just close our eyes and let go.
If we’ve done our best we’ll be ready for a rest,
We just close our eyes and let go
~~

Sunday Song: Praise the lord and send me the money…

 

Thanks to Bruce

Praise the Lord and send me the money
I’m happy you can be happy too
If you praise the Lord and send me the money
That’s what Jesus wants you to do

Late one night while watchin’ Columbo
I fell asleep till quarter past three
When just like a vision I thought I was dreamin’
I heard the voice of a man on TV

He said praise the Lord and send me the money
I’m happy you can be happy too
If you praise the Lord and send me the money
That’s what Jesus wants you to do

I sat straight up and reached for my checkbook
Trembling with guilt took my bic pen in hand
I wrote out the figures a one and four zeros
Went out and mailed it with a note to that man

I said praise the Lord I’m sendin’ the money
I surely wanna be happy like you
Praise the Lord I’m sendin’ the money
If that’s what Jesus wants me to do

I woke up late for work the next morning
I could not believe what I’d done
Wrote a hot check to Jesus for ten thousand dollars
And my bank account only held thirty-one

I got a second job at a gasoline station
I’m savin’ me money to pay what I owe
I don’t get much sleep cause I stay up late watchin’
All of the folks on the Lord’s TV show

Sayin’ praise the Lord and send me the money…
Praise the Lord I’m sendin’ the money

~~

Sunday Song: The Mississippi Squirrel Revival…

 

Thanks to Bruce

Well when I was kid I’d take a trip

Every summer down to Mississippi

To visit my granny in her antebellum world
I’d run barefooted all day long

Climbing trees free as a song

One day I happened catch myself a squirrel
Well I stuffed him down in an old shoebox

Punched a couple holes in the top

When Sunday came, I snuck him in the church
I was sittin’ way back in the very last pew

Showin’ him to my good buddy Hugh

When that squirrel got loose and went totally berserk
Well what happened next is hard to tell

Some thought it was Heaven others thought it was Hell

But the fact that something was among us was plain to see
As the choir sang, “I surrender all”

The squirrel ran up Harv Newlan’s coveralls

Harv leaped to his feet and said, “Somethin’s got a hold on me!”
The day the squirrel went berserk

In the First Self-Righteous Church

In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula

It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival

They were jumpin’ pews and shouting, “Hallelujah”
Well Harv hit the aisles, dancin’ and screamin’

Some thought he had religion, others thought he had a demon

And Harv thought he had a weed eater loose in his fruit of the looms
He fell to his knees to plead and beg

And that squirrel ran out of his britches leg

Unobserved to the other side of the room
All the way down to the Amen pew

Where sat Sister Bertha better than you

Who had been watching all the commotion with sadistic glee
Shoot, you should’ve seen the look in her eyes

When that squirrel jumped her garters and crossed her thighs

She jumped to her feet and said, “Lord, have mercy on me”
As the squirrel made laps inside her dress

She began to cry and then to confess

To sins that would make a sailor blush with shame
She told of gossip and church dissension

But the thing that got the most attention

Was when she talked about her love life

And then she started naming names
The day the squirrel went berserk

In the First Self-Righteous Church

In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula

It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival

They were jumpin’ pews and shouting, “Hallelujah”
Well 7 deacons and then the pastor got saved

And 25,000 dollars got raised and 50 volunteered

For missions in the Congo on the spot
And even without an invitaion

There were at least 500 rededications

And we all got rebaptized whether we needed it or not
Now you’ve heard the Bible story, I guess

How He parted the waters for Moses to pass

All the miracles God has brought to this ol’ world
But the one I’ll remember to my dyin’ day

Is how He put that church back on the narrow way

With a half crazed Mississippi squirrel
The day the squirrel went berserk

In the First Self-Righteous Church

In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula

It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival

They were jumpin’ pews and shouting, “Hallelujah”
The day the squirrel went berserk

In the First Self-Righteous Church

In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula

It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival

They were jumpin’ pews and shouting, “Hallelujah”
~~

Sunday Song: Go Away Godboy…

 

Thanks to Bruce

My made-up mind was not put here for you to change
You think that I am your lost cause, so beautiful and strange
Minding my own business ’til you criticized my friends
It’s on now, time to go now. Let the heresy begin.
and so I’m screaming

CHORUS

Go away god boy, your gospel doesn’t work on me
You’re pestering a goddess, here, I was blind, but now I see
You’re stuck inside your holy head, you think that you’re in love
Just Go Away, you lamb of god, before I have to crush you like a (bug)

Thanks for the invitation, but I’ve already thought this through
If I’m not one of the chosen, I won’t have to put up with you.
Who wants to go to heaven when your stalker meets you there?
Better a whore of Babylon, baby.
Don’t let the front door hit you when you…

CHORUS

Don’t try to wrap your head around my heartful of free will
I’ll shake you up, I’ll tear you down, do my worst and give you chills
I’ll hit you right between the eyes; these Boots will come to call.
Don’t make me make you sorry you came after me at all.

BRIDGE

You’re pestering this goddess to the ground,
but she will not come down
to what’s inside your head.
Go find a willing flock of sheep and preach to it instead
At least that way you’re occupied and might not end up dead
and resurrected

Go away, god boy, please don’t make me ask again.
I have heard you out, now it’s my turn to add a spin
Your holy head is up your ass, your message ringing clear.
Go away, god boy, or it’s me and not your savior that you’ll fear.

Punk Solo Break

(Hail Mary, full of grace! Save me from the human race!
Hail Mary, wise and meek! Save me from this freak!)

Go away, god boy your gospel doesn’t work on me
You’re stuck inside your dogma and your Karma’s getting messy
your holy head is up your ass, your message ringing clear
Go away, god boy, or it’s me and not your savior that you’ll
Go away now little boy, or it’s girls and not your savior that you’ll
Go away god boy, or it’s me and not your savior that you’ll fear.
~~

Sunday Song: If There’s A God In Heaven What’s He Waiting For?

 

Thanks to Bruce

Torn from their families
Mothers go hungry
To feed their children
But children go hungry
There’s so many big men
They’re out making millions
When poverty’s profits
Just blame the children

If there’s a God in heaven
What’s he waiting for
If He can’t hear the children
Then he must see the war
But it seems to me
That he leads his lambs
To the slaughter house
And not the promised land

Dying for causes
They don’t understand
We’ve been taking their futures
Right out of their hands
They need the handouts
To hold back the tears
There’s so many crying
But so few that hear

If there’s a God in heaven
Well, what’s he waiting for

If there’s a God in heaven
What’s he waiting for

~~

Sunday Song: Between Jesus and Jones…

 

Thanks to Bruce

I’m the last one standing’ every Saturday night
All the rights feel long, wrongs feel right
But every Sunday morning I see the light again
When I’m up on the wagon I’m a helluva saint
But I’ll be damned if there ain’t another town to paint
Just down the road man it’s a game that I can’t win.

I need to find a little middle ground
Between let her rip and settling down
But I go from dry to drowned, lost to found
Stone cold sober to just plain stoned
Trying to live like my heroes did
Is the hardest kind of livin’ there is
Been a tug o’ war since I was a kid between Jesus and Jones.

I Wish I could find a gear between
“White Lightning” and John 3:16
But girl I can’t promise anything right now
All I can say is I wanna change
And I’ll keep the faith that you’ll take the reins
And hold on tight and calm this crazy down.

I need to find a little middle ground
Between let her rip and settling down
But I go from dry to drowned, lost to found
Stone cold sober to just plain stoned
Trying to live like my heroes did
Is the hardest kind of livin’ there is
Been a tug o’ war since I was a kid between Jesus and Jones.

I need to find a little middle ground
Between let her rip and settling down
But I go from dry to drowned, lost to found
Stone cold sober to just plain stoned
Trying to live like my heroes did
Is the hardest kind of livin’ there is
Been a tug o’ war since I was a kid between Jesus and Jones.
~~

Sunday Song: What Would Scooby Do?

 

Thanks to Bruce

These are pretty swell times
Or it seems so to me
For science in books on the web and TV
Yes the lover of reason just has to say “WOW”!
There’s a whole lot of really good stuff out there now

You’ve got Hawking and Dawkins
Bill Nye’s a big deal
We’ve had Cosmos with Carl
And Cosmos with Neil
But there’s one voice of reason
Who always comes through

I am speaking of course
Of the great Scooby Doo

When life presents a mystery
And you can’t make sense of the clues
Before you proclaim that something spooky’s to blame
Just try asking “What would Scooby do?”

Remember that cool caper when a wicked evil ape
Or maybe some demented crazed orangutan
Was haunting all the actors on a movie set
The fact was he scared everyone away
That seemed to be his evil plan

Scooby and his friends
Did they give in to the hysteria?
Of course not
They just calmly started searching the whole area

They carried out their task
They ripped away the monkey’s mask
There was no ape at all
Just stunt man Carl was their man

When everyone seems baffled
By a strange occurrence or two
You’ll soon understand
An explanation’s at hand

If you try asking “What would Scooby do?”

Another time this ghoul was making everyone feel foolish
With his blood red cape and piercing yellow eyes
Scaring workers on a scaffold, the authorities were baffled
Why was a monster hanging out up there on their high-rise?

Everyone was scared and seemed to want to disappear
Scooby and his friends said “Something fishy’s happening here”

They set out undercover
Sure enough, they soon discovered
What others called a ghoul
Was just a robber in disguise

When people seem bewildered
By a ghost, a wraith or a ghoul
It could be a fluke
It doesn’t have to be spooks

Just try asking “What would Scooby do?”

When life presents a mystery
And you can’t make sense of the clues
Before you proclaim that something spooky’s to blame
Just try asking “What would Scooby?”
“What would good old Scooby?”
“Tell me what would Scooby do?”

So when things seem bizarre
And you’re at your wits’ ends
Be like old Scooby Doo
And his Skeptical friends

For they know it is clear
What Occam ’s razor commands
Don’t accept goofy claims
If something simpler’s at hand

When life presents a mystery
And you can’t make sense of the clues
Before you proclaim that something spooky’s to blame
Just try asking “What would Scooby?”
“Tell me what would Scooby?”
“What would good old Scooby do?”
~~

Sunday Song: Why I Don’t Believe In God

 

Thanks To Bruce

I heard the truth about you
And it really doesn’t read at all
Like the whipping stick you raised me with
A scared woman in a private hell
Hushed voice like electric bell
Strange talk about Edgar Cayce and the long lame walk of the dark 70’s
I heard the truth about you
Yeah you
Mama they woke me up
I was deep in an idiot sleep
I was just eight years old
Heard big words with a horrible sound
Why’d they have to call my school
Tell me my mother had a nervous breakdown
I wish I believed like you do
Yeah you
In the myth of a merciful god
In the myth of a heaven and hell
I hear the voices you hear sometimes
Sometimes it gets so much I feel like letting go
Sometimes it gets so goddamn hard I feel like letting it all go
Letting it all go
I ran away, went looking for you
Back to Culver City and the old neighborhood
Need to know if you were really gone
Need to know if you were gone for good
I ran through the projects at night
Hide in the dark from my friends in the light
Hide from my brother-in-law
Hide from the things he’d say
Said you weren’t losing your mind
He said you just needed a rest
He said you’d be coming home soon
He said the doctors there would know what’s best
Said that maybe I could go live with them for a while
I know the truth about you
I know the truth
Mama they woke me up
I was just eight years old
Sometimes it gets so hard I feel like letting it go
Letting it all go
~~

What If No One’s Watching?

 

What if No One’s Watching by Ani DiFranco.

Thanks to Bruce

If my life were a movie
there would be a sunset
and the camera would pan away
but the sky is just a little sister
tagging along behind the buildings
trying to imitate their grey
the little boys are breaking bottles
along the sidewalk
the big boys, too
the girls are hanging out at the candy store
pumping quarters into the phone
’cause they don’t want to go home

and I think,
what if no one’s watching
what it when we’re dead, we’re just dead
what if it’s just us down here
what if god ain’t looking down
what if he’s looking up instead

if my life were a movie
I would light a cigarette
and the smoke would curl around my face
everything I do would be interesting
I’d play the good guy
in every scene
but I always feel I have to
take a stand
and there’s always someone on hand
to hate me for standing there
I always feel I have to open my mouth
and every time I do
I offend someone
somewhere

but what
what if no one’s watching
what if when we’re dead, we’re just dead
what if there’s no time to lose
what if there’s things we gotta do
things that need to be said

you know I can’t apologize
for everything I know
I mean you don’t have to agree with me
but once you get me going
you better just let me go
we have to be able to criticize
what we love
say what we have to say
’cause if you’re not trying to make something better
as far as I can tell
you’re just in the way

I mean what
what if no one’s watching
what if when we’re dead
we’re just dead
what if it’s just us down here
what if god is just an idea
someone put in your head

I mean what
what if no one’s watching
what if no one’s watching…

~~

Sunday Song: Heretic Heart

 

Thanks to Bruce

By Catherine Madsen

I am a bold and a Pagan soul
A-ramblin’ through this land
I judge the world by my own lights
And I come by my own hand
And if you ask me where I learned
To live so recklessly

My skin, my bones, my Heretic heart
Are my authority

My mother was a singer of tales
My father a dreaming man
And I have swung from the dragon’s tongue
And danced on Holy Land
I’ve sung the seed up out of the ground
And the bird down from the tree

My skin, my bones, my Heretic heart
Are my authority

I once was found but now I’m gone
Away from the “Faithful Fold”
Of those who preach that holiness
Is to do as you are told
Though law and scripture, priest and prayer
Have all instructed me

My skin, my bones, my Heretic heart
Are my authority

Now they tell me Jesus loves me
But I think that he loves in vain
He must go unrequited
On me he has no claim
For the man who would command me must
(Alt: My Goddess is our Lady Moon)
Wear the horn and let me be
(Alt: Whose tides run deep in me)

My skin, my bones, my Heretic heart
Are my authority

And while I breathe this glorious air
An outlaw I’ll remain
My body will not be subdued
And I will not be “saved”
And if I cannot shout it loud
I’ll sing it secretly

My skin, my bones, my Heretic heart
Are my authority
~~

Sunday Song: Fires of Hell

 

From Harmony James (homeschooled, raised in an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist home)
Thanks to Bruce

Raised in the back woods hidden away

And kept out of sight

Is it any wonder I would want to run to the light

I ain’t ever been drunk on liquor

I ain’t ever been kissed

I heard at the store there’s a whole lot more

Of sins on that list

Au revoir and fare thee well

I’m headed straight for the fires of hell

Took that Holy Bible right to the bottom of the lake

Where I’m going I will not be carrying that kind of weight

Pure as the driven snow but now all set to be defiled

The sins of the father once again passed on to the child

Au revoir and fare thee well

I’m headed straight for the fires of hell

Get down on your knees dear mama

Get down and pray

I get a feeling you’ll be kneeling for my soul to be saved

I’ve wandered astray

Au revoir and fare thee well

I’m headed straight for the fires of hell

Au revoir and fare thee well

I’m headed straight for the fires of hell

I’m headed straight for the fires of hell
~~

Sunday Song: Monty Python — Every Sperm Is Sacred

 

Thanks to Bruce

There are Jews in the world there are Buddhists
There are Hindus and Mormons, and then
There are those that follow Mohammed, but
I’ve never been one of them

I’m a Roman Catholic
And have been since before I was born
And the one thing they say about Catholics is
They’ll take you as soon as you’re warm

You don’t have to be a six-footer
You don’t have to have a great brain
You don’t have to have any clothes on you’re
A Catholic the moment Dad came

Because every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate

Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate

Let the heathen spill theirs
On the dusty ground
God shall make them pay for
Each sperm that can’t be found

Every sperm is wanted
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood

Hindu, Taoist, Mormon
Spill theirs just anywhere
But God loves those who treat their
Semen with more care

Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate

Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood

Every sperm is useful
Every sperm is fine
God needs everybody’s
Mine and mine and mine

Let the pagan spill theirs
Over mountain, hill, and plain
God shall strike them down for
Each sperm that’s spilt in vain

Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood

Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate

~~

 

Sunday Song: Genesis – Jesus He Knows Me…

 

Thanks to Bruce

You see the face on the TV screen
coming at you every Sunday
see that face on the billboard
that man is me

On the cover of the magazine
there’s no question why I’m smiling
you buy a piece of paradise
you buy a piece of me

I’ll get you everything you wanted
I’ll get you everything you need
don’t need to believe in hereafter
just believe in me

Cos Jesus he knows me
and he knows I’m right
I’ve been talking to Jesus all my life
oh yes he knows me
and he knows I’m right
and he’s been telling me
everything is alright

I believe in the family
with my ever loving wife beside me
but she don’t know about my girlfriend
or the man I met last night

Do you believe in God
cos that’s what I’m selling
and if you wanna get to heaven
I’ll see you right

You won’t even have to leave your house
or get outta your chair
you don’t even have to touch that dial
cos I’m everywhere

And Jesus he knows me
and he knows I’m right
I’ve been talking to Jesus all my life
oh yes he knows me
and he knows I’m right
well he’s been telling me
everything’s gonna be alright

Won’t find me practicing what I’m preaching
won’t find me making no sacrifice
but I can get you a pocketful of miracles
if you promise to be good, try to be nice
God will take good care of you
just do as I say, don’t do as I do

I’m counting my blessings,
I’ve found true happiness
cos I’m getting richer, day by day
you can find me in the phone book,
just call my toll free number
you can do it anyway you want
just do it right away

There’ll be no doubt in your mind
you’ll believe everything I’m saying
if you wanna get closer to him
get on your knees and start paying

Cos Jesus he knows me
and he knows I’m right
I’ve been talking to Jesus all my life
oh yes he knows me
and he knows I’m right
well he’s been telling me
everything’s gonna be alright, alright

Jesus he knows me
Jesus he knows me, you know…
~~

Sunday Song: Here’s Your Future

 

God reached his hand down from the sky
He flooded the land then he set it on fire
He said, “Fear me again. Know I’m your father.
Remember that no one can breathe underwater”

So bend your knees and bow your heads
Save your babies, here’s your future
Yeah, here’s your future

God reached his hand down from the sky
God asked Noah if he wanted to die
He said “No sir
Oh, no, sir”
God said “Here’s your future
It’s gonna rain”
So we’re packing our things
We’re building a boat
We’re gonna create the new master race
Cause we’re so pure
Oh, Lord, we’re so pure
So here’s your future

God told his son, “It’s time to come home
I promise you won’t have to die all alone
I need you to pay for the sins I create”
His son said, “I will, but Dad, I’m afraid”
Yeah, so here’s your future
Here’s your future

Yeah, here’s your future
So here’s your future
So here’s your future
So here’s your future
~~

Sunday Song: Rush — Roll The Bones…

 

Thanks to Bruce

Well, you can stake that claim
Good work is the key to good fortune
Winners take that praise
Losers seldom take that blame
If they don’t take that game
And sometimes the winner takes nothing
We draw our own designs
But fortune has to make that frame

We go out in the world and take our chances
Fate is just the weight of circumstances
That’s the way that lady luck dances
Roll the bones

Why are we here?
Because we’re here
Roll the bones
Why does it happen?
Because it happens
Roll the bones

Faith is cold as ice
Why are little ones born only to suffer
For the want of immunity
Or a bowl of rice?
Well, who would hold a price
On the heads of the innocent children
If there’s some immortal power
To control the dice?

We come into the world and take our chances
Fate is just the weight of circumstances
That’s the way that lady luck dances
Roll the bones

Jack…relax
Get busy with the facts
No zodiacs or almanacs
No maniacs in polyester slacks
Just the facts
Gonna kick some gluteus max
It’s a parallax…you dig?
You move around
The small gets big
It’s a rig
It’s action…reaction
Random interaction
So who’s afraid
Of a little abstraction?
Can’t get no satisfaction
From the facts?
You better run, homeboy
A fact’s a fact
From Nome to Rome, boy

What’s the deal?
Spin the wheel
If the dice are hot…take a shot
Play your cards. Show us what you got
What you’re holding
If the cards are cold
Don’t go folding
Lady Luck is golden
She favors the bold
That’s cold
Stop throwing stones
The night has a thousand saxophones
So get out there and rock
And roll the bones
Get busy!

Roll the bones

Why are we here?
Because we’re here
Roll the bones
Why does it happen?
Because it happens
Roll the bones

~~

Sunday Song: What God Said

 

 

Thanks to Bruce

You know Christie
Something happened a long time ago in Haiti
And the people don’t wanna talk about it
They were under the heel of the French
And they got together and they swore a pact to the devil
They said we’ll serve you
If you’ll get us free from the French
True story
And so the devil said okay it’s a deal
And ever since then they have been cursed

Shake the hand of my imaginary friend
See the trouble he gets in
Can’t be traced back to me
He can’t pretend at the slightest of his when
He has the power to suspend our rules of morality
And when he gets angry he can make the lion cry
He can help me win the fight with his power
Yes he speaks to me and it’s always positive
Cause I can just ask for forgiveness and it’s over

[Chorus:]
So you can’t put the blame on me I’m doing what God said
What God said, what God said
Don’t you put the blame on me I’m doing what God said
What God said, what God said

So you’re praying for the death of the president of the united states
Do you think it’s appropriate to say something like that or…
I’m not saying anything what I’m doing is repeating what God is saying
In the name of the one who made us all
I will hide behind these walls from my enemy
By the power bestowed from up above
I will conquer you because it is my destiny
And with the righteous hand
I will bring you to your knees
I will strip you of your freedom without mercy
And when the earth quakes and the blood runs in the sand
There will be no final stand for the unworthy

[Chorus:]
So you can’t put the blame on me I’m doing what God said
What God said, what God said
Don’t you put the blame on me I’m doing what God said
What God said, what God said

I stand on a mountain top on a solid rock
I stand on abundance truth and I won’t be moved
And when I come to claim my victory
I’ll repeat what was told to me

[Chorus:]
So you can’t put the blame on me I’m doing what God said
What God said, what God said
And he speaks to only me I know what God said
What God said, what God said
~~

Sunday Song: God, Paper, Scissors

 

Thanks to Bruce

Dear god I hope you’ve got your ears on,
I wanna tell you something that you
wouldn’t believe.
There’s children dying in the gutters.
Tell me why you hide your heart up your sleeve?

You never come down here.
You never show yourself, is it fear?
You never prove yourself.
When you’re needed you disappear.

Who sins?
Who chooses?
Who wins?
Who loses?

Sunday Song: Get Down On Your Knees Dear Father

 

Thanks to Bruce

To all those who suffered at the hands of the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland.

All dressed up like a Christmas tree
With velvet lace and gold
They took us to their sacred house
And we did what we were told
They filled up our heads with stories
And told us that we could be saved
If we sang and praised their hero
But he never showed his face

They warned us to watch out for Satan
Who’d be waiting there to capture our souls
If we didn’t heed all of their wishes
He’d drag us down through that hole
We’d burn there and scream forever
And our cries they would never be heard
Yes the little innocence of children
Would accept the liar’s word

Get down on your knees dear father
And beg now forgiveness from me
Show me that you’re truly sorry
For the person I couldn’t be
Show me some tears now of sorrow
Show me a face that is real
My innocence and lonely existence
Was never left for you to steal

They’ll take away all of your treasures
They’ll rob you of all of your dreams
Their cruelty hurts and will leave you
With scars that can never be seen
And we are all left here to suffer
With the heartache of struggle and strife
And our tears they’ll never dry ‘em
They follow us on through life

Get down on your knees dear sister
And beg now forgiveness from me
For the cruelty towards all those children
And the pain that you’ll never see
The mothers that lost all their babies
And never would see them again
The cries from their beds
Still remain in their heads
And slowly it drives them insane

Grab your bags with your souvenirs
Your faking your gold your chandeliers
Take all your sermons and all of your songs
Your won’t be back no more
Take your church and your holy shake
Your evil deeds from where you came
Your candles are melted and no one cares
You won’t be back no more
You won’t be back no more
You won’t be back no more
~~

Sunday Song: Got My Plastic Jesus

 

Photo by Joseph Novak. http://www.flickr.com/photos/josephleenovak/671972189/

 

Thanks to Bruce

I don’t care if it
Rains or freezes
As long as I’ve got my
Plastic Jesus
Ridin’ on the dashboard
Of my car

Through my trials
And tribulations
And my travels
Through the nation
With my plastic Jesus
I’ll go far

Ridin’ down the thoroughfare
With a nose up in the air
A wreck may be ahead
But he don’t mind

Trouble comin’
He don’t see
He just keeps his eye on me
And any other thing that lies behind

With my plastic Jesus
Goodbye and I’ll go far
I said with my plastic Jesus
Sitting on the dashboard of my car

When I’m in a traffic jam
He don’t care if I say damn
I can let all my curses roll

‘Cos Jesus’ plastic doesn’t hear
‘Cos he has a plastic ear
The man who invented plastic
Saved my soul

With my plastic Jesus
Goodbye and I’ll go far
I said with my plastic Jesus
Sitting on the dashboard of my car

An if I weave around at night
Policemen think I’m very tight
They never find my bottle
Though they ask

‘Cos plastic Jesus shelters me
For his head comes off you see
He’s hollow and I use him like a flask

Woa Woa Woa

Save me

I don’t care if it’s dark or scary
Long as I got magnetic Mary
Ridin’ on the dashboard of my car

I feel that I’m protected amply
I’ve got the love of the whole damn family
Ridin’ on the dashboard of my car

With my plastic Jesus
I said goodbye
And I’ll go far

And I said with my plastic Jesus
I said sittin’ on the dashboard of my car

When I’m goin’ fornicatin’
I’ve got my ceramic Satan
Sittin’ on the dashboard of my car
Women know I’m on the level
Thanks to the wide-eyed stoneware devil
Sneerin’ from the dashboard of my car

j2

~~

Sunday Song: No Laughing In Heaven

 

Thanks to Bruce

I used to be a sinner, used to have my cake and eat it
They warned me of my fate, but I was quite prepared to meet it
You’ll go to Hell they smiled at me
And told me of the roaring fires
But I was happy living wild
And fueling my own desires
I was a wild man
Drinking, smoking and messing around with women
Lots of women
No, not swimming, women

I wanna go to Heaven
The place to be is right up there
I wanna go to Heaven
It’s gonna be good so I won’t despair

Sunday Song: C’mon, C’mon, To My Atheist Funeral


~~

Sunday Song: The Atheist Hymn

 

Thanks to Bruce

We pray to you, o nothing
To the cold and heartless void
And though you cannot answer
We never get annoyed
We worship Richard Dawkins and
The lovely Brian Cox
Who sport their heathen head-gear
And put on godless frocks

From “The God Delusion”
We divine our moral code
And from Mr Hitchens
A sacramental for the road
We reject your sky-god for
A sinful life, it’s true
We just want to blaspheme and
Have rampant bumming too

Every Sunday morning
Science opens all our eyes
We watch Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos” and
We bake fresh apple pies
Darwin’s theory is the
Sacred law by which we live
We denounce the profane
Creation hypothesis

Just one final thought we
Want to get in to your skull
This shit never happens ’cause
It’s not a faith at all
Atheism is the absence
Of belief in gods
It’s not a religion
Your argument’s a fraud …

… A-rseholes

~~