I don't want to know what state they found the bodies in I don't want to read the transcript of the 999 "Turn to page twelve for pictures of their crying child" It is disgusting, revolting, and it is not news, no I would never deny the morbid delight The fascination that we share for death and despair But we must beware, and never pretend that it's not there But keep it controlled We have evolved beyond basic instincts of old It's this that keeps us apart from animals and media men Cry revolution Don't buy these shitrags with head-lies full of buzz words Do you really need to know? I saw a show, a programme on my plasma screen This girl was killed on CCTV They played it back in slo-mo with a commentary It might have been a football match It made me sick See, week after week, these guys compete With Brookside and Coronation Street They calmly corrupt, sexing it up Ethically morally bankrupt "Tragic", "Senseless", these words turn facts into porn for emotional voyeurs and it's got to stop. Stop! But now the word is out, now we all know the depths they plumb And how low they go just to make some dough How long before, on some slow weeknight, they go grab a star and snuff out its light, for the exclusive rights? But let's face the facts We all know full well they wouldn't do it at all if it didn't sell We've created our own hell So let's draw the line, let's finally choose Do we want the truth, or some pundit's views? While we still have minds to lose, let's kill the fucking news Revolution Don't buy these shit-rags with head-lies full of buzz words Do you really need to know? Close your eyes