Lyrics RANT - Bo Burnham

RANT

All the seats at the Sunday masses
Filled with the masses' massive asses
Classes pass as fast as molasses
Ceremonial reading glasses
Read a little bit of Leviticus
All the kids are a little too little for this
All the parents nod in agreement
«I think I can vaguely see what He meant.»
It’s too early in the morning, glory
To read another allegory story
The father reads a little bit farther
Assuring the assured that they need not bother
«When God, in verse 45
Said that slaves are okay to buy
He meant that people all from the start
Each have 'slaves' within their hearts:
Things that we have sold or boughten
That are forced to pick our moral cotton
God calls us to set these free
Free our hearts from slavery
And then as God goes on to explain
The logistics of buying and selling slaves
Uh… he…the bible’s sorta like… uhhh…there's like… typos…didn't-»
In the back, I sit and I nod
To the beats that are bumping from my iPod
My God, they’re starting to pray
And over the music I can hear them say
«Dear God, dear Lord, dear vague muscular man with a beard or a sword
Dear good, all-seeing being
'My way or the highway' Yahweh
The blue-balled anti-masturbator
The great all-loving faggot-hater
I’d like to thank your holy might
For making me both rich and white
And though this is your day of rest
I come to you with one request:
There’s so much pain beyond this steeple
Wars and drugs and homeless people
Sadness where there should be joy
Hate and rape and Soulja Boy
A world in darkness needs your light
So I’m sure your schedule’s pretty tight
But my dog just had surgery
If you could fix that first?
JESUS!»
Debra Messing’s finger’s in a holy place
Hail Mary full of Grace
Obama, could you pass some hope to the Pope?
I know a couple dudes who wanna elope
See the church said nope so the bros can’t cope
The bros can grope but the bros can’t cope
They’ve been in love and they’ve been addicted
Who said they shouldn’t?
Benedict did
'Cause in the holy land of the Lord
He’s the holy landlord
And dicks are evicted
'Cause you can be a Benedict
If you’ve been a dick under Benedict
But you can’t have Benedicts
Because there’s only one pope
With only one dick, what?
What?
Yeah, a dick on a pope is
Just like a soap on a rope
'Cause it’s pointless, unless in prison
Throw up your bibles, Christ has risen
Hallelujah, now it’s raining men
Because the gender ratio is 1 to 10
Winos at the Eucharist station, trans-gendered-substantiation
Jesus wasn’t the Messiah
Get back, I’m a heretic and I’m on fire
It was Oedipus, those holy nights
The holy motherfucking Christ
I’m a blasphemah
Post-Katrina, cruising the marina
On a crusade to cruise aids
And blast FEMA
You’re too late, we’re fucked, we don’t need ya
Amen, in the name of the father, son and holy ghost
Head, shoulders, knees and toes
Turn up your nose, strike that pose
Hey macarena