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