Freedom Funnies vol. 1



(verse 1)


21st century depravity

blasphemous american satan family

in a time of great excess

saturday mornings, Uncle Buttsex


executions on tv (let's watch!)

that's how you know we're free

this is as good as it gets

fill your house with plastic shit


(chorus)


I WANT YOU

to jack off


(verse 2)


restless longing fills your heart

fresh possessions fill your cart

big bargain bonanza

touch your head to the checkout scanner


catch the scheissegeist

a nation of antichrists

what you want, you will get

plenitudes of plastic shit


(verse 3)


now the plastic mask is off

the godfearing veneer cast off

we're evil, together

doesn't it make you feel better?


smells like apple pie

freedom from the pious lies

thy will be done, i'm gunna cum

US satan #1!



I <3 the Antichrist



(verse 1)


we're at the End of History

but everything keeps going

the tank is full, the dice are hung

and the AC is blowing


the whole wide world arranged

for our convenience and pleasure

i see no reason why

this regime shouldn't last forever


we've got six hundred sixty six

flavors of potato chip

eat the ice cream of the future

while you ride the rocketship


(chorus)


things are always gonna be this way

it's always gonna be this way

this is how everything'll stay

it's always gonna be this way


just how it is today

it's always gonna be this way

things are always gonna be this way

it's always gonna be this way


i heart the antichrist

heart the antichrist


SATAN IS OUR GOD


(verse 2)


sundays through the shopping mall

a-wandering we go

to wonder at the miracles

this culture can bestow


Auntie Anne's pretzel pushers

feed my sick addiction

Big Dog t-shirts parody

the papal crucifixion


jizm-flavored jelly beans

pixel pasty titty teens

blowing twenty dollars

on the Revolution X machine


(verse 3)


there's a story on tv

about kids suffering somewhere

i just change the channel

because i don't have to care


if it makes you feel bad, son

remember that you're blessed

and your blessings number more

than the varieties of Crest


we've got more and better stuff

than anyone has had

there's a barcode tattooed on our foreheads

but it's not so bad



We, Todd, Did



(chorus)


we, Todd, did

we, Todd, did

sofa king

we, Todd, did

find the magazine you hid

flipped through it and flipped our lid

whoo!


Todd, did

we, Todd, did

recover what you were rid of

you thought no one would look there?

you are so fucking stupid


(verse 1)


we were in the couch

digging for change

under the cushion

we found something strange


this funny-looking

magazine

crusty like

a Krispy Kreme


about the size

of a Reader's Digest

some kind of stupid thing

where Families Confess


but why are all

the pages sticky?

why's it make us

feel so icky?


(verse 2)


our little brain

doesn't know what it means

and we're getting close

to spilling the beans


we're still pissed off

that we didn't get to rent

Dweebus and Dipshit

Kill the President


but we might be dis-

inclined to squeal

if you're amenable

to making a deal


mom doesn't have to know

and this can all go away

if we get the Dreamcast

for our birthday



Drink the Lava from the Lamp



(verse 1)


i double dare you, i triple-dog dare you

it's burning hot, but don't let it scare you

put your lips to the beaker of brew

with molten gobs of psychedelic goo


blue as a smurf, twice as delicious

it comes from the earth, so it must be nutritious

suck it down like a genie's nut

your guts are melting and they're coming out your butt


(chorus)


drink the lava from the lamp


(verse 2)


it came from the Brenda Spencer Gifts

where the employees don't like the monday shifts

and for some fuckin reason it's also a phone

made for the amusement of the constantly stoned


it's convenient that you can dial 9-1-1

with the same device you killed yourself with for fun

organ meat turns to liquid with maximum hurtage

spurts from every orifice with worstful squirtage


(verse 3)


it's de-evolution, returning to ooze

looking like the discharge from a cavewoman cooze

you can no longer speak, you only gibber and squeak

every time we plug you up you only spring another leak


as your brand new blowholes continue to spray

i bottle what i can, you would have wanted it this way

it's a shame that all that groovy spooge got spilled

but i can use what's left of you for a lamp refill



Pink Stink



(chorus)


Pink Stink

it does just what you think

Rubber Seems Realer(TM) quick as you blink

bring your latex to life

make it smell like daddy's new wife


any scent that you please

from Jungle Rot to Genital Breeze

one whiff of stinky pink mist

your dick gets hard and you're weak at the knees


(verse 1)


step one: take out your love gun

aim it where you wanna cum

pocket puss, silicone bum

however you have your solo fun


shake up the can

spray that thing that's made in japan

let your schoolchums smell your fingers

they'll think you've become a man


now you're ready for sex

fuck that thing like Theodore Rex

scaly pee-pee making whoopi

with aromatic SFX


(verse 2)


but wait - there's more to this pitch

so what if your mom and daddy ain't rich

you don't have the latest model fleshlight?

you've got what it takes to make a sandwich


take a slice of meat

microwave a jack-off treat

spray it with a sexy fragrance

like A Lady's Bicycle Seat


after, slip it back in

to the package as you stifle a grin

hear your stepmom say as you walk away

"the balogna tastes like pussy again!"



Demons Will Rape You When You're Dead



(verse 1)


you've never got your shirt tucked in

ketchup is crusted around your chin

a Burger King crown sits atop your head

demons will rape you when you're dead


(verse 2)


you blew a skullfart from your snout

millions of snot droplets spraying out

who knows what kind of disease you'll spread

demons will rape you when you're dead


(verse 3)


your hat must be screwed on way too tight

you didn't get my order right

i wanted the artisanal sourdough bread

demons will rape you when you're dead


(verse 4)


in traffic this evening you cut me off

eager to get home to jerk off, no doubt

then away in your monster truck you fled

demons will rape you when you're dead


(verse 5)


your lawn's overgrown with the wrong type grass

you probably don't even wipe your ass

your haircut looks dumb and your name is Fred

demons will rape you when you're dead


(verse 6)


demons will rape you when you die

gnashing your teeth you'll writhe and cry

this is where your transgressions led

demons will rape you when you're dead



Ride the Ducks



(verse 1)


your twelve year old doesn't get the big deal

he says "OK, it's just a boat with wheels"

he doesn't understand that one of the choices you make

everyday, as a man, is whether or not to drive into the lake


here for the weekend to see the attractions

so take your chances on this fatal contraption

forget your worries, trust in the lord

this is your captain speaking, welcome aboard


(chorus)


c'mon, c'mon, ride the ducks

it looks fun, but you might get fucked

when you get that sinking feeling

you better not be under the ceiling


c'mon, c'mon, ride the ducks

this is a deathtrap and you're fucking stuck

you took your family on vacation to Branson

you might as well have got a gun and killed them


hey, c'mon, ride the ducks

your kids are yelling "daddy, this ride sucks!"

the driver told you that you might get wet

they still haven't found all the bodies yet


(verse 2)


this baby is practically new

decommissioned after world war two

if the weather stays clear, we'll be totally fine

there hasn't been an incident since '99


don't get your tighty-whiteys all in a wad

it's mostly not-dangerous, honest to god

and fun for the whole damn family

except for when there's mass casualties



The Desacralization of the Vatican (tonight at 9/8c)



(verse 1)


the eyes of the saints are lifeless and blank

the gates are all smashed by New Order tanks

Swiss Guard corpses are scattered around

bloody vestments litter the ground


the square swarms with cameras and crew

it's showtime, so without further ado

here's the star of the program, the man of the hour

who, despite the big hat, does not have magic powers


weak and withered, shriveled and old

we're gonna nail him to a cross of gold

it's the biggest television event of all time

if you miss it you'll die

TONIGHT AT NINE


(chorus)


the desacralization of the vatican

make the city of rome heathen again

barbaric blasphemy, pay-per-view

maybe later we can make it a zoo


the desacralization of the vatican

evict god and declare this a house of sin

a gilded brothel with clergy for whores

fuck em in the ass, slam their dicks in doors


(verse 2)


the big poppa can just "hang out"

while we get down to what this nights's about

the Setian XXXorcism

with the black book and the unholy jizm


up the steps goes the weirdo parade

of volunteer perverts here to get laid

all they're wearing is goat heads and socks

the censor will tastefully scramble their cocks


upon the altar they fuck like dogs

followed at ten by the running of hogs

the inner sanctum desecrated by swine

live from the city of lies

TONIGHT AT NINE


(bridge)


we'll take the holy relics

dip 'em in acrylic

sell 'em at the giftshop


now a dead saint

can tickle your taint

holler "Thomas, don't stop!"


true cross toothpicks now on sale

buy one get one holy grail

shroud of turin matching towels

jars of pickled bishop's bowels



PlanetFake



(verse 1)


you won't find the underground on a t-shirt in the Hot Topic next to the fashion sneakers

or providing the soundtrack to your shopping experience over the speakers

they don't put you in the magazines if there's anything about you that's actually extreme

if they're not mainstream, why are they on tv?


(chorus)


25 years too late

you'll realize all the stupid shit you liked is fake

and everything you claimed to hate

you'll think it's fucking great


it's all a part of the slow process of dying


it's just what happens with the passage of time

and then you die


(verse 2)


that must have been some fantastic ad-man type who figured out this marketing tactic

"angry youth who don't fit in are a lucrative demographic"

all you gotta do is keep the grievance vague, screaming incoherent rage

the kids in black will eat that shit up like a coprophage


(verse 3)


schizophreniac ranting, self-mutilation, basement rooms full of bad things

necrosexuality, none of this shit was a threat to the people that ran things

if they thought it was a problem, then they would have shut it down

it might be a sign when one of your idols dresses like a clown



Foodcourt of the Gods



(verse 1)


a supermassive indoor space

a hundred thousand in one place

every one with things to do

protagonist of their own movie


kids running wild, as young as eleven

here's a little rat-faced fuck named Kevin

he sees a lot of things that he can't have

and plenty more he'd like to grab


big-titted sluts in skirts of denim

he's got a scheme to see up in 'em

going around with a cootie detector

impersonating the Pussy Inspector


(chorus)


six floors

the great indoors

bigger than a dinosaur

the foodcourt alone has a population

like a termite infestation


hot slop

while you shop

hell beneath, whipped cream on top

the crowning jewel of our Satan Nation

the pinnacle of human civilization


(verse 2)


more than anyone could eat

every known species of meat

exotic eggrolls of the Qing

you'll have one of everything


in your gaping face you put

frankfurters by the foot

big wads of dough, potato-ade

crispy fried hot grease grenades


you'd barely touched your gorilla nuts

when you felt a gurgle in your guts

colon's swollen, bowels are bloated

halfway to the bathroom when your butthole exploded



Kill Him Again!



(verse 1)


guess who's back, the 2nd Cummer

just in time to be a bummer

this party just got started

to stop now would be retarded


it's set up how we like

a thousand year convenience reich

this dickless hippie piece of shit

thinks there's something wrong with it


he's sad about the poor and the junkies and whores

and he's hollering about it in the Wal-Mart store

he's bothering the customers and he won't stop

somebody call the cops


(chorus)


he comes on all preachy

wants me to get weepy

i'm trynna watch teevee

kill him again!


he says no ice cream

while kids are starving

he's fucking up our thing

kill him again!


we got it good here

fridge full of cold beer

then here comes this godqueer

kill him and kill him again!


(verse 2)


the cops arrived to save the day

and take the crazy man away

not to some institution

to the place of execution


bullets, beatings, buzzsaws too

he'd just respawn as good as new

after attempt number three

they said "put this sucker on tv"


should he swing from a rope or get eaten by goats?

call in and cast your vote

after the twelfth iteration

God gives up in exasperation



Limp Weiner



(verse 1)


the Britney cd

your wrinkled weewee

you sit there palpating your pud


on the porcelain throne

you can't find your bone

your dickmeat is devoid of blood


LIMP WEINER


spend 40 minutes on the toilet bowl

massaging your gummi lifesaver roll

finally squeeze out a pathetic load

dead sperm go spiraling down the commode


(verse 2)


your wife's out of town

the kids aren't around

you go out and meet some cheap sluts


you forgot to bring

your viagra ring

now how can you get in those guts?


LIMP WEINER


before the great whore you stand there exposed

kneading your little tube of biscuit dough

squishing and stuffing it into the hole

after you give up you pay her to go


(verse 3)


the Britney cd

your wrinkled weewee

you sit there palpating your pud


you forgot to bring

your viagra ring

your dynamite stick is a dud


LIMP WEINER


a life's disappointments have taken their toll

spine's made of jello, a wet cardboard soul

dwell in a sedated un-pleasure dome

you don't really live here, but this is home


LIMP WEINER



Blobjects of Desire



(chorus)


i want to fuck thee computer (x3)

it shows me vagina pictures

i want to fuck thee computer (x3)

i wanna FUCK THE FUTURE


(verse 1)


erotic electronics

housed in smooth translucent plastics

backlit, you can see through

bioluminescent blue

like the sex organ of some alien mollusc

in whose gelatinous embrace you find solace


(verse 2)


kybernetik jellyfish

spreads her slot for compact dic

slap the case, see it quiver

as the viscous teknoplasm shivers

you feel some give as you push it in

penetrate the membrane



Phantom of the Megasupercine-plex



(verse 1)


all of you

want what's shiny and new

until every town drowns

in homogenized goo


it's all the same

who is to blame?

the art deco dream palace

went up in flames


when you go

to your next picture show

when they turn down the lights

you might reap what you sow (oh...when i sew up your hole)


(chorus)


i was very badly burned

the business i devoted my life to was spurned

by the cretinous shithead tripe-consumers

who would soon receive the reward they'd earned


now the mega-multiplex

will fall beneath the phantom's hex

when you sit down in the dark to dream

you will feel my fingers around your necks


(verse 2)


my revenge

fully unhinged

the blood of the victims

shall flow like a minge


hot buttered brains

popcorn and pain

the red velvet cushions

will help hide the stains


like a shark

i hunt through the dark

if you tell the usher

that makes you a narc


(verse 3)


movie time

be quiet while i'm

in the row right behind you

reenacting war crimes


up on the screen

a tasteful love scene

there's no full penetration

it's pg-13


the entire

theater burns with desire

the exits are bike-locked

when i set the fire (i set your dad's half-hard dick on fire)



Electronic Fart Machines



(verse 1)


i use Things You Never Knew Existed

to furnish my home

i wish someone would call me here

on the Fart'n Phone


the clock farts the hour

i get up off the floor

you could set off the Fart Alarm

if you walked in the door


all alone, i'm watched over by fart-

machines of loving grace

i think James Joyce would like this place


(chorus)


I WANNA DIE I WANNA KILL MYSELF (x3)

i'm trapped in wacky fart fuck hell

I WANNA DIE I WANNA KILL MYSELF (x3)

there's no way out, there's no one else


(verse 2)


i haven't left the house in days

i'm sure i've lost my job

the front door just makes farting noises

when i turn the knob


i'm frightened of the rubber asscheeks

mounted on the wall

their vision's based on movement

so i curl into a ball


i put the barrel of a .38

up against my head

no bang, it just goes *PFFFT!* instead



Hell is Forever



(verse 1)


you see the world in crude cartoons

the world will be one soon


and you've become a joke

God stepped out for a pack of smokes


it's time to wake up, Jack

Daddy isn't coming back

tell the world "I QUIT!" today

kill yourself at Chick-Fil-A


(chorus)


quit bitchin'

eat mor chikin

flick your Bic and

HELL IS FOREVER


loud yellin'

burnt-hair smellin'

eyeballs swellin'

HELL IS FOREVER


death's grinnin'

the world keeps spinnin'

your agonies are just beginnin'

HELL IS FOREVER

HELL IS FOREVER

HELL IS FOREVER


(verse 2)


smear yourself with spoiled grease

a human candle for world peace


it doesn't sound too peaceful though

but what the heck do i know?


bonfire in the parking lot

looks like you like it hot

the kids can watch the conflagration

they'll get an education