Well, he's the reigning king of "the latest thing"
And he'll document your life
To everybody and their mother and even the neighbour's wife
And when the story gets back to you it's fiction with a knife
And the subjects' names have not been changed to protect the subjects' life

Well I don't know what he was thinking or what was on his mind
Obviously not a lot or he'd have taken more time
And now I'll have to kill him in some way that ain't sublime
Yeah, one less gossip in the world, sure that'd suit me fine

Damn you, damn you, damn you all to hell
Dead men never tell

Well you can't believe what they tell you when you're young
And you can't believe what they tell you when you're old
And you can't believe what they say about you when you're gone
Not much of a conversation left to hold

But Sunday morning in the church they'll catch up on the news
There's a murmur in the flock, but there's a reason they're called pews
'Cause something smells kinda' fishy with the local holy plan
And I can only thank the Lord that I don't give a damn