Ghetto Blasphemer

Bang!

Analysis of a pop culture cultist
Honey-sweet idolatry of the purist
Each godling rotting on a pedestal
Their children gone feral
And their worshipers bent perpetual
Intellectual
Insulated by their own conviction
Righteous in the mirror of a single opinion
So vulnerable
With their backs turned
Stroking their reflection
Drowning in their vanity

Feels good to be a what, what, what, what
Nothing’s holy
Feels good to be a what, what, what, what
That’s man-made
Feels good, feels good to be a gangsta
Feels good, feels good
We are the ga-ga-ga-ga
Feels good, feels good to be a gangsta
Feels good, feels good

We are the
Ghetto Blasphemer
And this is what you should fucking fear
Corruption
Of all you hold dear
And a world where nothing is as it appears

Locked away
In the darkest depths
Possibilities
That they fear to contemplate
Where we reside
Forever with our eyes
Looking on as they struggle
Against the rising tide
And there I was, behind it all
in the shadows, in the cracks in the walls
Under beds and inside their heads whispering
That the end is near
Future obsidian
I feed on fear

Feels good to be a what, what, what, what
Nothing’s sacred
Feels good to be a what, what, what, what
Your ? wasted
Feels good, feels good to be a gangsta
Feels good, feels good
We are the ga-ga-ga-ga
Feels good, feels good to be a gangsta
Feels good, feels good

We are the
Ghetto Blasphemer
And this is what you should fucking fear
Corruption
Of all you hold dear
And a world where nothing is as it appears

Bang!

Feels good to be a what, what, what, what
?
Feels good to be a what, what, what, what
I fucking refuse to try and fit in
Feels good, feels good to be a gangsta
Feels good, feels good
We are the ga-ga-ga-ga
Feels good, feels good to be a gangsta
Feels good, feels good

We are the
Ghetto Blasphemer
And this is what you should fucking fear
Corruption
Of all you hold dear
And a world where nothing is as it appears