Here's one of my favorite songs, written and performed by Steve Taylor. The subject matter is religious hypocrisy. I happen to be a songwriter, and I am always impressed by cleverly worded, insightful lyrics. I love the reference to Nero, and Rome burning, in the chorus:
YouTube - Steve Taylor - Smug
SMUG
Strike this little pose
Chin up in the air
Lips together tightly
Nostrils in a flare
Now look like you care
Very nice!
Practice in the mirror
Brushing back a tear
Very sincere
A promising career could begin right here at home
If you've got that smug
That smug
Hey mama, hey mama, lookee what your little babies all have become
Hey mama, hey mama, don't it ever make you wish you'd been a nun?
Vain and fickle, were we weaned on a pickle?
Is it in our blood?
Rome is burning
We're here turning smug
Strike another pose
Power politics
Swallow their conventions
Get your power fix
We love to mud wrestle
We love to be politically Koreshed
Practice that smug
Pose it like a man
One part Master Limbaugh
Two parts Madame Streisand
Now pretend you're in a band
My, my, we're looking smug
Very very very very
Hey mama, hey mama, lookee what your little babies all have become
Hey mama, hey mama, don't it ever make you wish you'd been a nun?
Vain and fickle, were we weaned on a pickle?
Is it in our blood?
Rome is burning
We're here turning smug
All you smug-starved millions in the thick of the search
Welcome to our church
Whatcha wanna solve?
We can help you evolve from merely self-righteous
To perfectly smug
Strike the proud pose of our country club brethren
Friendly as a tomb
Fragrant as the bottom of a locker-room broom
Now what's the matter?
Hey, get off your knees, that part don't come 'til later
God will not be pleased
Hey mama, hey mama, lookee what your little babies all have become
Hey mama, hey mama, don't it ever make you wish you'd been a nun?
Vain and fickle, were we weaned on a pickle?
Is it in our blood?
Rome is burning
We're here turning smug
Hey mama, hey mama, lookee what your little babies all have become
Hey mama, hey mama, don't it ever make you wish you'd been a nun?
Vain and fickle, were we weaned on a pickle?
Is it in our blood?
Rome is burning
We're here turning
Rome is cooking
My, we're looking smug
