HOT DOGS AND KRAFT DINNER

hot dogs and kraft dinner
superfries and frozen burgers
wonderbread and peanut butter
cornflakes with hot tapwater

fattening up our tapeworms. x4

kentucky fried and mary browns
burger kings with paper crowns
mcdonald's birthday party clown
greasy - limp - sickly - graybrown

fattening up our tapeworms. x4

repeat first verse. repeat chorus.

like pigs lining up at the trough
lay some cash down for your slop
mouth watering at the thought
of that turd stuffed in your gob

fattening up our tapeworms. x3

BABYLON MALL (Jamie Snider / Wonderful Grand Band)

At the mall, at the Babylon Mall
Where the sun don't shine and the rain never falls
Don't gotta think about nothing at all
You can dance all day to the music in the wall
At the mall, at the Babylon Mall

You can drink your coffee from a plastic cup
Spill it on the floor and never have to wipe it up
Wander through the stores and spend your money
Hang out by the take-out and find yourself a honey

At the mall, at the Babylon Mall
Disappear in Woolco without a trace
Buy, take it home and then throw it away
Cash and carry credit card consumer craze
At the mall, at the Babylon Mall
Parking's free at the mall

At the mall, at the Babylon Mall
Canaries by the fountain in a great big cage
A push button organ anybody can play
Cash and carry credit card consumer craze
At the mall
Parking's free at the mall
But you pays to pee at the mall

You can wander through the stores 'til your feet are flat
Buy a head of lettuce or a baseball bat
A 'lectric guitar or a colour T.V.
Ride up and down the escalator for free

EUNUCH BOY

you're still up there i'm still down here
let's not pretend mutual respect
your conscience is clean,
but you get what you want.

condescend because you can
money buys you the luxury of politeness
so let's respectfully disagree
it's ok. i know my place.

but i don't know why i persist in being sweet
if i said what i really thought, i'd be cast out on the fucking street
seems like the straights own and run everything
and God doesn't it seem like they always will
like they always will

so give us this day our daily bread
with a boot to the stomach and a pat on the head

(repeat intro lyrics)

in the future wars will be fought, not by people
but by customer experience representatives
armed with a positive attitude
who subdue their enemies with self help platitudes
self help platitudes

so give us this day our daily bread
with a boot to the stomach and a pat on the head

FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT (TO NOT GIVE A SHIT)

there's a herd of big boxes
a-rollin in to graze
you can smell FM lite radio
waft in on their breeze
a swarm of soccer moms in SUVs
like ticks upon their backs
and a cluster of mammoth parking lots
left behind as tracks

Phil Collins sings and elegy
to our last few scraps of apathy
cause we don't have the energy
to feel even that

just postmodern ennui
'cause boredom's so easy
trading freedom for safety
this social contract

you gotta - fight for your right to not give a shit
fight for your right to not give a shit
like a white male middle class hypocrite
you gotta - fight for your right to not give a shit

i approach the sleeping giant
and it breathes out hot air
as i step inside the gaping wide
sliding doors
now that i'm in the very
belly of the beast
think i'll go buy me some DVDs

Joni Mitchell sings an elegy
to my last few scraps of empathy
cause i'm so much more happy
being entertained

i'll get my kicks vicariously
with some phony sentimentality
'cause why face the reality
that i'm who's to blame

fight for your right to not give a shit! you gotta x3

fight for your right to not give a shit
fight for your right to not give a shit
you gotta roll around like a pig in it
you gotta fight for your right to NOT GIVE A FLYING FUCK

DEAD MALL

you smell like the inside of mom's purse
like can dy, breath mints, cheap makeup and musty money
you crawled out from under a dead mall
with a piercing gun at your hip
and shiny strawberry gloss on your lips
and shiny strawberry gloss on your lips
you've got a perfect tan and perfect teeth
hands in your wallet and eyes on your everything

billions are spent getting inside of your head
billions are spent getting into your pre-ripped pants
billions are spent on your maintenance
and billions are spent on your phony little wants

COMPASSION COMES FROM THE BARREL OF A GUN

i've seen the face of evil
it's sweet and kind
a mild mannered megalomaniac
who just stands idly by

'cause the only thing worse than
being too nice for your own good
is being too nice for somebody else's
and it's so hard to play stupid
when you spend the rest of your time
playing smart

i've seen the face of good
it's hideous and scarred
so you wouldn't recognize it
if it took hold of your heart

and if that heart jumped off a bridge
would you go and follow it?
or would you let it drown?
but you'll forget it all someday
as the electricity upstairs runs down
and fizzles.. out

you better know right now
that this could end tomorrow
you better know right now
that it's already over

FOOD FAIR

empty places, public spaces
fluorescent lit in sickly colours
teal green, baby blue
muted beige and orange puke
sanitary - monitored - emotionless - gray
this is private property - so go away

NO SHIRT NO SHOES NO SERVICE x2

tables bolted down
metal chairs that skrrch
styrofoam plates, plastic cups and plastic cutlery
cheap, convenient, disposable
non-biodegradable

NO SHIRT NO SHOES NO SERVICE x2

NO SHIRTS NO SHOES NO SERVICE x4

YOUNG PROFESSIONAL

look at the young professional
something a mother could be proud of
in a pressed suit of denial
tailored just so, it fits him exactly

with the perfect trophy wife
or is he the perfect trophy husband?
they were love at first sight
and property the morning after

mild of voice and mild of vice
and even his sex is mild-mannered
a vegetarian, well, isn't that nice?
so was hitler, we won't go there

well i'm your self-help guru
so help yourself - and have some more!
and have i got a motivational program for you:
help yourself, and no one else

look at the young professional x4

THE SMUG GRIN OF INCLUSION

i turn on my tv
there are winners on every channel
and they're all trying to sell me
the secret to their winnerhood
give in to the truth
of everything false in yourself
let's not kid around
you know we're all in this alone

charm the world
with a smile and a song
line their pockets
while cooing, "why can't we all just get along?"
with a pause for silence
and a pause for thought
and won't you please
pause for the sponsor

cause you can be anything you want
in this liberal utopia of ours
so long as you're not
FAT or POOR or SWEET
or STUPID or UGLY or MEEK
you gotta learn to stand
on your own two feet
wear a shitsuckling smile
for every customer you greet

well i don't wanna grin
the smug grin of inclusion anymore
so better make peace with yourself
and declare war on yourself
better make peace with yourself
and declare WAR.

WAR.

WAR.

WAR.

I AM HAPPY BEING NOTHING

i want in on your guarded heart
a golden crown of flowers is your
shiny shimmering summer halo

let's stay up until 4 in the morning
talk til we're hoarse, and there's nothing worth saying
then sit in silence while the sun is rising

rain falls in sheets and smatters the windows
a cold cup of loss and brittle burnt toast
under the silver slate gray sky of mourning

thought i once had some kind of vision, well
just for one brief little second
but it faded before me now my grief is left singing

and maybe i should be everything
but my truth is so much simpler

I AM HAPPY BEING NOTHING x4