Snitches Burn In Hell

by The Outlawed Bard Sunday, Apr. 30, 2006 at 12:21 AM

The recent book "Snitch Culture" tells it all - crooked cops and lawyers, jailhouse liars who buy reduced sentences with lies. Now the despised Minutemen want us to turn in our amigos who lack papers....

Stalin and Hitler built their societies on liars and finks who ratted on innocent people for non-criminal violations of criminal laws. Now there is a group trying to engineer mass deportation through a system of snitchery in which people are supposed to turn each other into the INS. The people behind the organized snitch campaign are the same people who put additions on their houses without permits and dump hazardous waste on our beaches.

Nobody says you can't call for help if someone is being beaten up or something real. Nobody says you can't blow the whistle on corporate malefactors who are ripping off the people. But "Snitch Culture" definese victimless crimes or minor infractions such as stealing bread as the fodder for tattle tales. And the real dirty crux of the matter is that there are people who lie and lie and lie just to curry favor with The Man.

The Outlaw Bard says No! to Snitch Culture.

Feel free to perform and this song for any good cause.
Just credit The Outlaw Bard
If you want the chords email theoutlawbard@yahoo.com


"Snitches Burn In Hell"

Dedicated to the many victims of lying informants in all places and times where justice was blind to truth.

By Geof Bard, The Outlawed Poet


The liars and the snitches

Got together one day

To run a little game

That they thought would really pay

The name of the game

Is reduction of time

The only rule of the game

Is the physics of slime


CHORUS:


“They saw him do it yes indeed

They heard him say it if you please”

Thus ratting out their very own brothers

Selling out the flesh of their God-given mothers.


The most lying of the snitches

Is the King of the Hill

What the cops want to hear

Whatever fits the bill


You can fill in the blanks

Any way that you please

The rats will say anything

To collect their snitching fees


Repeat Chorus



Then one day the snitches all died;

They thought they'd get to Heaven

With their stories and lies.

But ol' Saint Paul would have none of that:

He threw their lyin' asses down the snitching vat


Now the snitches they all toil in the fires of Hell

And let me tell you folks, it's a terrible smell.

The stench comin' up from out of the flame

As they snitch on each other - it's a crying shame.


Repeat Chorus


(c)2006 Geoffery Bard