Lyrics:

This songs made up, made second rateCosmetic music, powderpuffPop tunes, false rhymes, all lightweight bluffsSecond-hand ideas, no soul, no hateWasn't mean to beBuilt on complacencyThe nightmares ride awayWhen you refuse to playOh go and read a bookIt's so much more worth whileBeing a song-smith crookStudy death in styleDeath in styleThis language used is all worn outA walking corpse that won't play deadDisease dragged on from bed to bedPay for your twist, paid for shoutWasn't meant to beBuilt on complacencyOpen your eyes and seeThat lie is not for weRaise a rope and a knifeCut it out - the lieI don't want to decayTake the short cut awayOh go and read a bookIt's so much more worthwhileBeing a song-smith crookStudy death in styleStudy death in styleHeard you calling through the drumbeatAnswered with sticks and bonesScream, shout, and dance about the campfireYou can hear the question, can you feel the reply? Heard you calling through the drumbeatHeard you calling through the drumbeatCan you hear the question, feel the reply? Can you hear the question, feel the reply? Hymn from a villageThe hymn from a village