Books of the Dead

Prompt

Horror-surf garage punk, 150 BPM, D minor, 4/4. Male lead: clean, raw, throat-forward — deadpan in the verses, shouted by the final chorus. Four-voice gang vocals shout the chorus hook in unison. Instrumentation: fuzz guitar with heavy spring reverb, driving eighth-note bass, Vox combo organ on the counter-melody, tight garage kit, snare on 2 and 4, tambourine from the second chorus. Four instruments only — no strings, no pads, no synth. Arc: intro is drums and organ stabs. Verse 1 half volume, guitar muted. Chorus 1 full band, gang vocals enter. Verse 2 adds tambourine. Chorus 2 doubles the guitar an octave up. Bridge drops to organ and one bare voice, near silence, then a two-bar drum fill into a final chorus at maximum density — lead an octave up, gang vocals doubled. Ending: hard stop on the downbeat after the last word. No fade, no ring-out. One beat of silence, then a single low organ chord decaying. [horror surf] [garage punk] [combo organ] [gang vocals] [150 BPM] [D minor] [driving] [dark comedy] [hard stop ending] [Intro] Dead. Dead. Books of the dead. [Verse] Two years gone. No note. No grave. Lab coat. Latex. Blade. Corpse at eight. Home to the skull. He grades every cut. Calls it a B. Laughs like a game show. Teaches me for free. [Pre-Chorus] Nothing is free. Nothing is free. I ask the skull. The skull just grins. [Chorus] Books of the dead. Books of the dead. Crack the spine. Crack the head. Dead. Dead. Dead. I read what the dead said. [Verse] Bodies in the bio lab. Roots under the corn. Something in the server wants my name. The Dean asks questions. The sun comes up. Three exams. One grave. Not enough hours. [Pre-Chorus] Nothing is free. Nothing is free. Two years of chalk and bone. What's the skull want from me? [Chorus] Books of the dead. Books of the dead. Crack the spine. Crack the head. Dead. Dead. Dead. I read what the dead said. [Bridge] He knew their names. He never said. Two years of teeth. Two years of red. Who wrote the syllabus? Who picked the class? [Chorus] Books of the dead. Books of the dead. Crack the spine. Crack the head. Dead. Dead. Dead. The dead read me instead. [Outro] Dead. Dead. Dead. Books of the dead.