Dear Bill Hicks

Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Soulless, manufactured, superficial music Dear Bill Hicks, it's pop o'clock they still suck Satan's cock It's a shame, all they want is money and the fame Coz it's not over now and we've got to back right up Or we run the risk of burying what started off so smart Well it's not over now and we never will give in We'll flush away those mass produced pop turds that float to the top Dear Bill Hicks, the passion's wained there are no Kurt Cobains Simon's fat cow got milked to death no substance left remains Coz it's not over now and we've got to back right up Or we run the risk of burying what started off so smart Well it's not over now and we never will give in We'll flush away those mass produced pop turds that float to the top Sick of hip-hop lite And what the auto tune can hide Beat the Brit-School brats Joey go at them with a baseball bat Coz it's not over now and we've got to back right up Or we run the risk of burying what started off so smart Well it's not over now and we never will give in We'll flush away those mass produced pop turds that float to the top