This is the seventy-first installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is Atheist Funeral by Dan Sartain.
This is the seventy-second installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is The Atheist Hymn by Intermittent Explosive Disorder.
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
This is the seventy-third installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is Gays Got Married by Trevor Moore.
I grew up in an American town
No locks on the doors
When we all bedded down
To sleep
Met a pretty young girl, and made her my bride
After church on Sundays, take the kids for a ride
Down the street
Swimming holes, catching fireflies in jars
Spend the evening staring at the stars
Then the gays got married (gays got married)
And the plant shut down (plant shut down)
And the crops dried up (the crops dried up)
Everywhere around (Everywhere around)
Then the gays started kissin’ (started kissin’)
And the state said “Cool” (cool)
And they made all the kids
Be gay in school
’cause them gays got married (gays got married)
They announced it on TV
Jumped in my truck and slammed reverse
I had to get to my family
Before the gay could get there first
Hauling ass down the interstate
In my throat I could my heart
I didn’t know how much time I had
Before all the orgies would start
And they’re grabbing guys like me
And they’re pulling us out of our trucks
And they’re kissing our lips, and nibbling our ears
And all sorts of sexy stuff
And they’re taking us out to fancy hotels
And partying the night away
And they’re saying how good we look in their shirt
When we wake up the next day
No, I dare not look back
To see what’s behind
They almost got me once
When I was surfing online
But as strong and straight as I know I am
Every man can be pushed too far
I’ve seen the devil, and the devil looks like
Mario Lopez in jean shorts washing his car
I pulled up into my house
And I quickly ran inside
I grabbed my lovely spouse
But I felt no love when I looked in her eyes
The gay had gone airborne
And I didn’t make it in time
My family unit
Had already been undermined
Because
The gays got married (gays got married)
And released gay spores (gay spores)
And all the straight people (all the people)
Weren’t in love no more (never love no more)
’cause them gays got married (gays got married)
Been in this bunker three long years
Canned food and recycled air
Yet I shudder when I think about
What must be happening up there
A radioactive scorched desertscape
Ruled by roving biker gangs
With scary tattoos and muscley arms
Blue eyes and super cute bangs
So I’ll seal myself off from everyone
And hide here until I die
Confused and angry, sad and alone
And I know the reason why…
’cause the gays got married (the gays got married)
The gays got married (the gays got married)
The gays got married (the gays got married)
The gays got married
This is the seventy-fourth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is High in Church by Trevor Moore.
Lyrics
I’m high in church
I’m high in church
Oh Lord forgive me
This is the worst
I’m high in church
I’m high in church
Oh God please help me
This is the worst
Went home for Christmas
And Brian came over, I was nervous
Cuz he brought a bag of shrooms and pot
And I’m new to this, I’m just learnin’
Got a little too high on accident
Yeah that’s right, not on purpose
Then mom busted in my room
And said we have to go to midnight service
We’re in the minivan
And my friends don’t understand
I’m freaking out here man
Trying to remember who I am
My mom is talking to me
And that’s just making it worse
We walk into the lobby
Oh shit, I’m high in church
I’m high in church
I’m high in church
Oh God please help me
This is the worst
I’m high in church
I’m high in church
I’m high as hell
This is the worst
Went to go grab a pew
I’m freaking out, don’t know what to do
There’s an old war vet snoring next to me
And I think he’s been here since World War 2
I’m peaking here
I’m wigging out
They know I’m stoned
There is no doubt
Brian is reading the Bible and laughing
I plead for him to cut it out
But he’s giggling loud, he starts to cry
He’s turning red, I don’t know why
He’s like a goddamn neon billboard saying “Hey y’all, we’re super high”
I ask him what his problem is
And what’s making him laugh
He points to a verse that says
The Lord opened up the mouth of an ass
Oh my God, that’s super gross!
Why the hell is that in there?
My mom shushes both of us
And people turn around and stare
I take the book from Brian
The choir begins to sing
It dawns on me that I’ve never actually read this thing
I opened up the pages, and then start flipping through
I find it calms me down and gives my mind something to do
It says some beautiful things about forgiveness and love
’til I get to the end when God comes back
Wilds out, and straight up fucks Earth up!
Holy shit, did you know this?
Read this last part, what the fuck?
Spoiler alert, God comes back with dragons
And murders everyone!
What happened to the lovey-dovey stuff from the other verse?
Oh shit man, I can’t handle this right now, I’m high in church!
I’m high in church
I’m high in church
Oh God please help me
This is the worst
I’m high in church
I’m high in church
I’m high as hell
This is the worst
Need to get where no one can see
So I excuse myself to take a pee
But in the bathroom my old youth pastor
Comes up and stands next to me
Oh great, he’s probably gonna start yapping about how my soul is eternal
But instead he justs asks why my pants are down at the urinal
Oops, umm, sorry about that
Nice to see you, gotta go
Oh my God, I’m high as balls
And there’s no way he doesn’t know
Shit is getting out of hand
I’m getting higher
Need to make a plan
Maybe tell mom I’m sick
And try to get the keys to sleep this off in the van
I scoot back to my seat and notice everyone has stopped singing
The pastor asks if there is anyone here who is visiting
Mom gets excited, raises her hand
I tell her no, but she makes me stand
Pastor asks is I’m just here for Christmas
And I say “I am”
The congregation turns around
The pastor asks me how I’ve been
And that’s about when
The goddamn shrooms decided it was time to kick the fuck on in
“Trevor you’ve really done it now”
Holy shit, what’s going on?
What is that voice? I’m freaking out!
“This is Satan and you’ve summoned me to seal your doom”
Whoa, hold up, wait a minute
I don’t even think I believe in you
“I exist within subcounciousness down in your mind
But you did drugs and went to church, so now your soul is mine
For all eternity! You will never escape my clutch”
Okay uh, first of all I think that seems like a little much
A joint and couple caps and stems
Is that all that a soul is worth?
And God made everything I’ve done tonight!
All of it’s from the Earth!
The mushrooms and the pot, yo He made it all!
The nitrous, and the Adderall!
Muscle relaxers, maybe a little coke
But if that damns me for etenity
Then if you ask me the system’s broke!
Then Satan disappeared, and shrieked a shrieking sound!
I sent him back to Hell because I fucking stood my ground!
The church stares at me! Their eyes are open wide!
And the pastor asks if I’d stop shouting and please go outside
Uh, sure. Sorry, it’s just that…
I’m high in church
I’m high in church
Whatever man
I guess it could be worse
I’m high in church
That’s what I am
Sorry mom, I guess
I’ll be outside in the van
Whatever man
I’m gonna be out listening to the radio
Wake me up when you guys are done
This is the seventy-fifth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is The Garden of Allah by Don Henley.
It was pretty big year for fashion
A lousy year for rock and roll
The people gave their blessing to crimes of passion
It was a dark, dark night of the collective soul
And I was somewhere out on riverside by the el royale hotel
When a stranger appeared in a cloud of smoke
I thought I knew him all too well
He said now that I have your attention
I got something I wanna say
You may not wanna hear it, I’m gonna tell it to you anyway
You know I’ve always like you boy
Cause you were not afraid of me
Things are gonna get mighty rough here in gomorrah-by-the-sea
Ya said it’s just like home
It’s so damn hot I can’t stand it
My fine seersucker suit is all soaking wet
And the hills are burning
And the wind is raging
And the clock strikes midnight in the garden of Allah
In the garden of Allah
Nice car
Ah, I love those bavarians
So meticulous
Y’know I remember when things were a lot more fun around here
When good was good and evil was evil
Before things got so fuzzy
I was once a golden boy like you
And I was summoned to the halls of power in the heavenly courts
And I dined with the deities who looked upon me with favor,
For my talents, my creativity
And we sat beneath the palms
In the warm afternoons and drank the wine
With fitzgerald and huxley
And they pawned the biting phrase from the tongues hot with blood
And drained their pins of bitter ink
Vainly reaching for the bottle full of empty edens
Branded especially for the ones who had come with great expectations
To the perfumed halls of Allah, for their time in the sun
And we were stokin’ the fires and oilin’ up the machinery
Until the gods found out we had ideas of our own
And war was coming and the earth was shaking
And there was no more ruin in the garden of Allah
Today I made an appearance downtown
I am an expert witness because I say I am
And I said gentlemen, and I use that world loosely
I will testify for you, I’m a gun for hire,I’m a saint, I’m a liar
Because there are no facts, there is no truth
Just data to be manipulated
I can get you any result you like
What’s it worth to you?
Because there is no wrong, there is no right
And I sleep very well at night
No shame, no solution, no remorse, no retribution
Just people selling t-shirts
Just opportunity to participate in the pathetic little circus
And winning, winning, winning
It was pretty big year for predators
The marketplace was on a roll
And the land of opportunity
Spawned a whole new breed of men without souls
This year notoriety got all confused with fame
And the devil is downhearted babe, cause
There’s nothing left for him to claim
He said it’s just like home
It’s so low-down I can’t stand it
I guess my work around here has all been done
And the fruit is rotten, the serpent’s eyes shine
As he wraps around the vine,
In the garden of Allah
In the garden of Allah
In the garden of Allah
This is the seventy-sixth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is Poison by Tombstone Da Deadman.
Lyrics
[My church believes heaven and hell are real places.]
[Mmm. Uh huh.]
[And uh, guess which one you are going to if you keep this up?]
[I don’t know how we can fix a world where people have been so convinced that they are doing the right thing out of compassion and love and trying to help people when it is absolute poison. When it is absolutely destructive.]
Now who’s the one that is responsible for how the world is?
Who’s the one that is responsible for how we all live?
Who takes the negative influences and poisons all the kids
So they just repeat the stupid shit that you and I did?
Who’s the species that wallows in this puddle of mud?
Who’s the one that painted the planet in buckets of blood?
Who’s the one that begs a god for forgiveness of sins,
Then turns right around the next day and does it again?
Who’s the money hungry monsters that poisons the air,
Kills his own kind and steals the land ’cause he can’t share?
Who points the finger at a devil trying to shift the blame
And hides his hands because he knows that they’re covered in blood stains?
Yeah it’s just as you assuming it’s nothing but these humans
Would like to blame mythology for everything they doing.
They pray for non-existient gods to clean up the mess,
But never take responsibility just claim it’s a test.
See, that religion you’ve been given is shit and it’s all poison
And it’s partially the reason we’re bleeding it’s all poison
Yo, your worldview is poison and your outlook, is poison
You can deny it all you want but the truth is it’s all poison
That religion you’ve been given is shit and it’s all poison
And it’s partially the reason we’re bleeding, it’s all poison
Yo, your worldview is poison and your outlook is poison
You can deny it all you want but the truth is it’s all poison
See, as long we keep believing in demons, devils and goblins
We’ll never see a reason to tackle problems and solve ’em
‘Cause we gonna keep on thinking it’s part of divine prophecy
And we don’t have to solve is cause one day Jesus will stop it, see?
Many of y’all invested in living life after death
And nobody’s ever proved that we even have a soul yet
So while everybody’s speculating, lots of ya’ll are hesitating
Praying with your fingers crossed and hoping there’s a heaven waiting.
So sky daddy’s only talking to your group, huh?
And everything in your holy book is the truth, huh?
And we gonna burn if we don’t listen to you, huh?
Well, every other group is claiming that too bruh.
So don’t be coming at me unless you got some evidence
And use some reason and logic to make it make sense.
I think it’s evident that ever since I start asking for evidence
They stuttered like they got a speech impediment.
See, that religion you’ve been given is shit and it’s all poison
And it’s partially the reason we’re bleeding, it’s all poison
Yo, your worldview is poison and your outlook is poison
You can deny it all you want but the truth is it’s all poison
That religion you’ve been given is shit and it’s all poison
And it’s partially the reason we’re bleeding, it’s all poison
Yo, your worldview is poison and your outlook is poison
You can deny it all you want but the truth is it’s all poison
This is the seventy-eighth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is The Skeptic in the Room by Eddie Scott.
Lyrics
I’m always amazed that some people believe
things that defy common sense
How do they accept the bizarre and the odd
for which there is no evidence
Sure, some people say that it’s harmless
And I wish I could just let it go…
But it’s not what we know that makes trouble
It’s what we know – that just isn’t so.
It’s always such a drag to be the skeptic in the room
I state my case and watch the room grow silent as a tomb
‘Cause I’m the one who always says “How’s that supposed to work?”
Which makes me end up sounding like an overbearing jerk
Yes, it’s a drag to always be the lonely skeptic in the room
I have to speak my mind when pseudo-science starts to bloom
Although I try to hold my tongue sometimes I just can’t make it quit…,
‘Cause people sure believe some crazy shit!
I have a friend, her name is Laura, loves to talk about her aura
Every time she’s off her game: her dented aura is to blame
She says everybody’s got ‘em, cameras have been known to spot ‘em:
Magic, mystic aural energy
One day I just had to ask her, Laura, make it clear…
How’s it all supposed to work? Please tell me – I’m all ears!
How’s an aura get created?, tell me how’s it’s generated…
is there a hypothesis for how an aura can exist?
Maybe you’re just having mood swings, which you blame on magic woo things
That’s the last time Laura talked to me!
My friend Dennis he’s a scholar; his tech skills earn him top dollar
just a few short years ago, Dennis saw a UFO!
Now he says they’re all around us; Aliens in fact surround us
Probably they’re living right next door!
I say “Dennis, tell me buddy, help me understand…”
How can there be flying saucers, buzzing ‘round the land?”
How come every single sighting seems to come in lousy lighting
I guess I’d accept the truth, with valid photographic proof
But when you saw those lights a blinking – had you maybe just been drinking?
Dennis doesn’t call me anymore!
Britney is a modern lady, rather green and quite new-agey
Claims her latest malady, was cured by homeopathy!
She says it has magic rules, just take some wholesome molecules…
dissolve them in the purest H2O!
Britney took this grand concoction, and her pain was fixed.”
“Come again,” I had to say, “just what was in that mix?”
If it works well what would then be – water has selective mem’ry?
Knows the good but not the shit, that ever was dissolved in it.
Thanks to science here’s what we know, really it’s a big placebo…
Britney told me just where I can go.
I have a friend, no doubting Thomas, quite devout and really honest,
Says despite what we’ve been told, the Earth is really not that old.
He will brook no whys or wherefores, that’s what holy books are there for
Earth was born six thousand years ago.
To contradict you, Thomas, I admit to feeling grief
But maybe there’s some evidence to counter your belief!
Like chemistry, biology, astronomy, anatomy,
astrophysics, botany, geology, zoology…
molecular biology, physics, physiology
Thomas says “So what?” they’ll burn in Hell!
My young neighbors Dave and Tina, talked about how they had seen a
Former Playboy pinup queen, shouting out about vaccines.
Now they think its realistic – so that no one grows autistic
Not to vaccinate their little kids.
Dave, please listen now before it really is too late
Don’t take health advice from one to whom you used to masturbate?!
Beauty queens have certain assets; science really ain’t their strong set
you should get a good assist – from a freaking scientist!
Guys, I won’t speak gingerly – ‘cause this could cause great injury
The right thing is what Dave and Tina did!
So…it’s…not… always such a drag to be the skeptic in the room
Sometimes I state my case and find that people will consume
Though I’m the one who always says “How’s that supposed to work?”
It doesn’t have to mean that I’m an overbearing jerk
No it’s not bad to always be the lonely skeptic in the room
Bu I’ll still speak my mind when pseudo-science starts to bloom
Although I try to hold my tongue I know I’ll never quit…,
‘Cause people do believe …
And man do they believe!
Yes, people do believe some crazy shit!
Here’s a bonus video
This is the seventy-eighth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is Save it for a Sunday by Jessica McYorker.
bop pa di da pa di da da da da da…
you don’t fool me
and you know it
what makes me nervous is you sound so sure
there you go again
i swear it never ends
it’s starting to feel like i’m not even in this room
with youuuu with yooouuuu oohh
oh di dum di dum dum (ooh) di dum dim dum dum doo dum di dum oohhooh
i’m not saying
i won’t listen
it’s just that i don’t seem to get through
i won’t ask you
to take me seriously
as long as i don’t have to believe you
hope you buy half of all the things you say
but for now please save it for a sunday
ba di dum pum da dum di dum
This is the seventy-ninth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Holy by PVRIS.
Yeah, you’ve got it all,
But you’ve got it all wrong.
No, you don’t know
You’re a poor unfortunate soul.
Oh I know,
You make it seem that you feel whole,
So they don’t know
You’re a poor unfortunate soul.
Yeah you put on a faith facade,
Think you’re holy when you’re not.
I hate to break it to you baby,
But you’re simply lost.
You can right all the wrongs just to feel you belong,
But simply calling out sins don’t bring you closer to God.
You’re just a ghost at most,
A set of empty bones,
Searching for anything and everything to make you feel whole,
When it gets cold, oh oh oh.
You don’t know.
No you don’t know.
Oh you’re all alone,
You poor unfortunate soul.
You can’t control where your body lets you go.
Oh you’re all alone,
You poor unfortunate soul.
And you say that I’ve got it all wrong.
‘Cause you just know I’m a poor unfortunate soul.
But there’s no way that there’s weight in the words that you preach,
When you’re claiming your faith and you contradict your speech.
So I sit here and listen to your tongue and cheek,
I know that when you sit and pray you’re only praying for keeps.
Cause you’re a ghost at most,
A set of empty bones,
Searching for anything and everything to make you feel whole,
When it gets cold, oh oh oh.
You don’t know.
No you don’t know.
Oh you’re all alone,
You poor unfortunate soul.
You can’t control where your body lets you go.
Oh you’re all alone,
You poor unfortunate soul.
You’re shallow and empty and filled with regret.
I think that chest must be heavy from that cross on your neck
You only wear ’cause you’re wary of what comes next after your death.
Don’t think I didn’t notice.
Don’t think I didn’t notice.
Don’t think I didn’t know you’re just a po-oh-oh-oh
Poor unfortunate so-o-o-oul
Poor unfortunate so-o-o-oul
Poor unfortunate so-o-o-oul
Poor unfortunate
And you’ve got it all (poor unfortunate so-o-o-oul)
You’ve got it all wrong (poor unfortunate so-o-o-oul)
No you’ll never know, never know, never know (poor unfortunate so-o-o-oul)
You’re a poor unfortunate soul.
Don’t think I didn’t notice.
This is the eightieth installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.
Today’s Song of Sacrilege is Plastic Jesus by the King Earl Boogie Band.
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