Boondock
02-15-2008, 09:38 AM
i can't remember if i showed you these or not......figured you'd like them.....they're vary nice[/borat]
it's called dumb all over
-----
Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
It's gonna take a lot more
Than tryin' to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the face
Of the planet altogether
They call it THE EARTH
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
'Cause we behave the same . . .
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near 'n far
Dumb all over,
Black 'n white
People, we is not wrapped tight
Nurds on the left
Nurds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin' the Bible
Tells the story
'N makes the details
Sound real gory
'Bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here
You can't run a race
Without no feet
'N pretty soon
There won't be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it won't blow up
'N disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years . . . )
You can't run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgeon
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state
TO ARMS! TO ARMS!
Hooray! That's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (Get Down!)
Not his, not hers (but what the hey?)
The Good Book says:
"It gotta be that way!"
But their book says:
"REVENGE THE CRUSADES . . .
With whips 'n chains
'N hand grenades . . . "
TWO ARMS? TWO ARMS?
Have another and another
Our God says:
"There ain't no other!"
Our God says
"It's all okay!"
Our God says
"This is the way!"
It says in the book:
"Burn 'n destroy . . .
'N repent, 'n redeem
'N revenge, 'n deploy
'N rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
'Cause they don't go for what's in the book
'N that makes 'em BAD
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice French bomb
To poof them out of existance
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise
OUR GOD
("Cause he can really take care of business!")
And when his humble TV servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blonde wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
It's okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,
'Cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(Depending on which book you're using at the time . . . Can't use theirs . . . it don't work . . . it's all lies . . . Gotta use mine . . . )
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night . . .
Every day . . .
Hey, we can't really be dumb
If we're just following God's Orders
Hey, Let's get serious . . .
God knows what he's doin' . . .
He wrote this book here
An' the book says:
"He made us all to be just like Him," so . . .
If we're dumb . . .
Then God is dumb . . .
(An' maybe even a little ugly on the side)
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
---------
segue right into
----
And if these words you do not heed
Your pocketbook just kinda might recede
When some man comes along and claims a godly need
He will clean you out right through your tweed
That's right, you asked for it, remember there is a big difference between kneeling down and bending over . . .
He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account . . .
All from those chumps who was
Born again
Oh yeah, oh yeah
He's got seven limousines
And a private plane . . .
All for the use of his
Special Friends
Oh yeah, oh yeah
He's got thousand-dollar suits
And a Wembley Tie . . .
Girls love to stroke it
While he's on the phone
Oh yeah, oh yeah
At the House of Representatives
He's a groovy guy . . .
When he Gives Thanks
He is not alone . . .
He is dealin'
He is really dealin'
IRS can't determine
Where The Hook is
It is easy with the Bible
To pretend that
You're in Show Biz
(And a-one, and a-two, and a . . . )
They won't get him
They will never get him
For the naughty stuff
That he did
It is best in cases like this
To pretend that
You are stupid
(DOH . . . )
He's got Presidential Help
All along the way
He says the grace
While the lawyers chew
Oh yeah
They sure do
And the Governors agree to say:
"He's a lovely man!"
He makes it easier for
Them to screw
All of you . . .
Yes, that's true!
'Cause he helps put The Fear of God
In the Common Man
Snatchin' up money
Everywhere he can
Oh yeah
Oh yeah
He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account
You ain't got nothin', people
You ain't got nothin', people
You ain't got nothin', people
Thank the man . . . oh yeah
As we end another broadcast day
Let me say
That you ain't got nothin'
And he's got it all
And your miserable self
Is against the wall
The only thing you have not tried
It's the sport of chumps
That's SUICIDE
it's called dumb all over
-----
Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
It's gonna take a lot more
Than tryin' to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the face
Of the planet altogether
They call it THE EARTH
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
'Cause we behave the same . . .
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near 'n far
Dumb all over,
Black 'n white
People, we is not wrapped tight
Nurds on the left
Nurds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin' the Bible
Tells the story
'N makes the details
Sound real gory
'Bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here
You can't run a race
Without no feet
'N pretty soon
There won't be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it won't blow up
'N disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years . . . )
You can't run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgeon
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state
TO ARMS! TO ARMS!
Hooray! That's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (Get Down!)
Not his, not hers (but what the hey?)
The Good Book says:
"It gotta be that way!"
But their book says:
"REVENGE THE CRUSADES . . .
With whips 'n chains
'N hand grenades . . . "
TWO ARMS? TWO ARMS?
Have another and another
Our God says:
"There ain't no other!"
Our God says
"It's all okay!"
Our God says
"This is the way!"
It says in the book:
"Burn 'n destroy . . .
'N repent, 'n redeem
'N revenge, 'n deploy
'N rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
'Cause they don't go for what's in the book
'N that makes 'em BAD
So verily we must choppeth them up
And stompeth them down
Or rent a nice French bomb
To poof them out of existance
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise
OUR GOD
("Cause he can really take care of business!")
And when his humble TV servant
With humble white hair
And humble glasses
And a nice brown suit
And maybe a blonde wife who takes phone calls
Tells us our God says
It's okay to do this stuff
Then we gotta do it,
'Cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(Depending on which book you're using at the time . . . Can't use theirs . . . it don't work . . . it's all lies . . . Gotta use mine . . . )
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night . . .
Every day . . .
Hey, we can't really be dumb
If we're just following God's Orders
Hey, Let's get serious . . .
God knows what he's doin' . . .
He wrote this book here
An' the book says:
"He made us all to be just like Him," so . . .
If we're dumb . . .
Then God is dumb . . .
(An' maybe even a little ugly on the side)
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
---------
segue right into
----
And if these words you do not heed
Your pocketbook just kinda might recede
When some man comes along and claims a godly need
He will clean you out right through your tweed
That's right, you asked for it, remember there is a big difference between kneeling down and bending over . . .
He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account . . .
All from those chumps who was
Born again
Oh yeah, oh yeah
He's got seven limousines
And a private plane . . .
All for the use of his
Special Friends
Oh yeah, oh yeah
He's got thousand-dollar suits
And a Wembley Tie . . .
Girls love to stroke it
While he's on the phone
Oh yeah, oh yeah
At the House of Representatives
He's a groovy guy . . .
When he Gives Thanks
He is not alone . . .
He is dealin'
He is really dealin'
IRS can't determine
Where The Hook is
It is easy with the Bible
To pretend that
You're in Show Biz
(And a-one, and a-two, and a . . . )
They won't get him
They will never get him
For the naughty stuff
That he did
It is best in cases like this
To pretend that
You are stupid
(DOH . . . )
He's got Presidential Help
All along the way
He says the grace
While the lawyers chew
Oh yeah
They sure do
And the Governors agree to say:
"He's a lovely man!"
He makes it easier for
Them to screw
All of you . . .
Yes, that's true!
'Cause he helps put The Fear of God
In the Common Man
Snatchin' up money
Everywhere he can
Oh yeah
Oh yeah
He's got twenty million dollars
In his Heavenly Bank Account
You ain't got nothin', people
You ain't got nothin', people
You ain't got nothin', people
Thank the man . . . oh yeah
As we end another broadcast day
Let me say
That you ain't got nothin'
And he's got it all
And your miserable self
Is against the wall
The only thing you have not tried
It's the sport of chumps
That's SUICIDE