Backstabbers Inc - Priests In Boys Cardinals In Denial Lyrics

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Artist: Backstabbers Inc
Song Title: Priests In Boys Cardinals In Denial
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There's a zombification process going on, and it involves the man with the white collar telling you that when he's raping it's not really rape. It's just a very bad mistake and the man above will forgive him, and spare him the burden of having to speak on the stand. And mothers and fathers across this world turn a deaf ear and a blind eye, and keep sending their children to fucking sunday school. The man of the cloth will rape them. The church will keep it's mouth shut because what goes on between the stained glass windows is between the parties involved and their god above. Take this literally, the way the 12 year old had to take one of god's messengers hands on their sholders from behind. You'll never hear them admit this. You'll never hear an admission of guilt. There's a fucking problem with that cross. (It doesn't exist). And there's never a truth when a collection plate and the bible are involved.

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Other Backstabbers Inc song Lyrics
  • Burn Small Talk To The Fucking Ground
    "I wrote some words the other day, and they all came out like the kids I fucking hate. I came to burn any tried and true bridge you build in front of me. This is what I do, it's what i've always done. Maybe it's just me? Maybe you're fucking right. These friendships don't mean anything. They never fucking last, we never fucking win. Twenty-five years, and i've never seen one make it through. Fuck your broken hearts, fuck your broken razors. Fuck your same old tunes about the girl who was never there. Regret is for the ones I know, the ones who thought that I'd change someday. So when their close ties all become a noose, and their dreams all hit the fucking dirt, I told them keep fucking walking.

    ..."
  • Distortion Please
    "This is cancer, right? Whe you walk into those empty rooms and hope someone follows you in just to take notes. You can only check in so many times with an artificial smile. And you want to believe that you're here for yourself, but you know better than that. You want to believe that the 40 hours isn't killing you day by day, that the home you live in is your own, though you can't even paint the walls. I can hear you breathing and I know you hope it stops. I should have known since I was five and I watched those leaves hit the ground, and it was one of the only times I ever felt alive. Now it's twenty years gone by. Two decades of descent. Still waiting fore someone, something to prove me wrong. And I'd like to call you up, and tell you things that would make me look better than I'll ever fucking be, but it's a waste of my time and yours. So lets see those eyes well up. Sons and daughters, this place needs a black flag just to break even. They're searching for all the wrong answers in a ribcage. Don't bother looking .. you won't fucking find me. You can't kill someone who's as good as dead. Check your fucking backbone.

    ..."
  • Even Slaves Will Be Swimming In The Blood Of The Iron Fist
    "I've come to realize there will be 9 to 5s for the rest of our lives, and that you'd expect us to believe it doesn't get any better than this. Well, it does. Maybe not for the ones in the warehouses and the cubicles who gave up, but for the ones who can look at you and tell you're no better than a fucking pig handing out raffic violations. We'll spend that forty hours working under that clipboad, under that seasonal review that somehow decides what we eat for dinner, where we live, and how we get to these nightmare conveyor belts. Don't shake our hands. This isn't family, and I'd spit in your face if there weren't bills to pay. Keep searching. Keep fucking searching. For our appreciation, for our respect, for our never ending devotion. And sooner or later you'll realize what we've known for years. We don't owe you shit. We are not you fucking friends. Not now, not fucking ever.

    ..."
  • Like Virgin Vinyl In Bed
    "These words don't mean shit. They never do. You're all bullshit artists looking for the catch phrase of the day. So all the sheep come running with their mouths agape, and their fingers pointed high. We're sick of the pretty ones with cocaine eyes and name-drop tounges selling handshake-lies about these broken skies. We're all bullshit artists, and this is wire tapped soul-searching at it's worst.

    ..."
  • Voorhees Krueger Myers And Bush
    "This one's a ghost tale, so you can turn and tell him of your fight to death. And he'll grin, and he'll nod, and he'll say he understands. This fortunate son. You fortunate son. We should all be as lucky as to be patted on the ass every time we lie, cheat and steal from the pee-ons. Your silver spoon must have given you the idea of playing father figure / fucking Santa Clause. Because I remember the time you gave me and the rest of your nation's children hush money in the amount of three hundred bucks. We were supposed to call it even, shrug our shoulders and give up on anything better. I'm sure you want me to think of this everytime I see your spoiled, ugly face plastered on every propaganda machine you can bribe, and I do. I think of it every time I hear "another thousand dead". Another day like the rest. "Signing off,goodnight an god bless". "Another thousand dead, a thousand laid to rest". This bastard signed us off with goodnight and god bless. You fucking fortunate son. Is this what you wanted? There aren't enough holesin the ground to bury the lives that you've wrecked

    ..."
  • We Attack At Dusk
    "I don't think I've had the chance to tell you. But I see charred smoking bodies stacked high in these cities set on fire. Blame yourself. Blame your desires. Blame your thirst for power. There are no leaders, only actors given scripts to read from, handed to them by screen writers who moonlight as patriots. When in actuality they are just mice afraid of getting stepped on, in this glorified battle of good vs. evil. Let this be a warning. While you are sleeping we will be walking these streets hunting for these throats that need to be silenced. We all have lists, and they all begin with the names of every smiling politician. We are a threat. This is a promise.

    ..."
  • You Brought This On Yourself
    "Tell me another one...and another. The sun ain't shining, kid. It ain't shining and you're blind. Close fucking eyes, you'd better take these words like colombian neckties. This is where we're at, and this is the story told with a grain of salt for the open wounds and these locked grooves. The skin is fucking dead. The spirits are fucking gone. Alive and well is for the heartless. And I said I'd never write these words. So that's why I fucking typed this. Welcome to the fold. Here's where we fucking die. And welcome to the world where the kids never stop asking why. Welcome to hell. Your days are numbered. This is welcome home. This is fucking mine.

    ..."


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