This song's made up, made second rate
Cosmetic music, powderpuff
Pop tones, false rhymes, all lightweight bluffs
Second-hand ideas, no soul, no hate
Wasn't meant to be
Built on complacency
The nightmares ride away
When you refuse to play
Oh go and read a book
It's so much more worthwhile
Being a songsmith-crook
Study death in style
Death in style
This language used is all worn out
A walking corpse that won't play dead
Disease dragged on from bed to bed
Pay for your twist, pay for your shout
Wasn't meant to be
Built on complacency
Open your eyes and see
That lie is not for we
Raise a rope, a knife
Cutting out the lie
I don't want to decay
Take the short cut way
Oh go and read a book
It's so much more worthwhile
Being a songsmith-crook
Study death in style
Study death in style
Heard you calling through the drumbeat
Answer with sticks and bones
Scream and shout and dance around the camp fire
You can hear the question, can you feel the reply?
Heard you crawling through the drumbeat
Heard you scrawling through the drumbeat
Can you hear the question, feel the reply?
Can you hear the question, feel the reply?
Hymn from a village
The hymn from a village.