(Music starts with a single, distorted guitar note that feedback-whines, then kicks into a driving, frantic punk-rock drum beat and bassline)
(Verse 1)
The automatic doors, they sigh a final breath
And I step into this fluorescent scene of death
My battle-worn jacket and my hollowed eyes
Reflecting off a thousand soulless, packaged lies
They push their carts like coffins, a slow and silent crawl
I clutch this paper manifesto, prepared to lose it all
A shopping list of sorrows, a litany of needs
Beneath the buzzing lights that plant their toxic seeds
(Pre-Chorus)
They're marching to the Muzak's melancholy drone
But my heart's a kick drum in the frozen food zone!
I raise my fist up to the camera in the sky!
I'm not here to just survive, I'm here to feel ALIVE!
(Chorus - Explodes into a huge, anthemic, sing-along wall of sound)
WE'LL MARCH DOWN THIS AISLE TONIGHT
A BROKEN-HEARTED GROCERY PARADE!
WE'LL FIGHT FOR THE BREAD AND THE GATORADE
FROM THE ASHES OF THE DEALS THEY MADE!
SO RAISE YOUR BASKETS TO THE SKY AND SCREAM UNTIL YOU'RE SORE!
'CAUSE WE ARE THE KIDS WHO WANTED MORE THAN JUST A SUPERSTORE!
(Verse 2)
The produce section weeps beneath a plastic sheen
A graveyard for the vibrant, for the pure and for the green
The dairy case, a mausoleum, cold and stark and white
My own reflection is a ghost within the light
The living dead are shuffling, with coupons in their hand
They don't see the desperation in this promised land
But I see the expiration dates, like clocks upon a bomb
And I know we're all just waiting 'til the kingdom's come
(Pre-Chorus)
They're hypnotized by BOGO deals and savings they can't see
But every single price tag is another scar on me!
I grit my teeth and push ahead against the dying tide!
There is no room for surrender, there is nowhere left to hide!
(Chorus - Even bigger, more desperate and energetic)
WE'LL MARCH DOWN THIS AISLE TONIGHT
A BROKEN-HEARTED GROCERY PARADE!
WE'LL FIGHT FOR THE BREAD AND THE GATORADE
FROM THE ASHES OF THE DEALS THEY MADE!
SO RAISE YOUR BASKETS TO THE SKY AND SCREAM UNTIL YOU'RE SORE!
'CAUSE WE ARE THE KIDS WHO WANTED MORE THAN JUST A SUPERSTORE!
(Bridge - Music drops to a tense, pulsing bassline and drums. Vocals are half-spoken, half-spat)
The checkered floor keeps spinning now, a dizzying abyss
The cashier wears a painted smile, she seals it with a kiss
Of corporate disaffection, as she asks me for my card
Is this my life? A checkout line? Forever scarred?
I say "I'll bag it myself!" with defiance in my soul
I'm taking back the last shred of my self-control!
(Screamed, raw vocal)
I WON'T BE ANOTHER RECEIPT YOU CAN JUST TOSS ASIDE!
(Epic, wailing guitar solo that sounds like it's crying and starting a revolution at the same time)
(Chorus - Full-throttle, everything pushed to the max, gang vocals shouting along)
WE'LL MARCH DOWN THIS AISLE TONIGHT
A BROKEN-HEARTED GROCERY PARADE!
WE'LL FIGHT FOR THE BREAD AND THE GATORADE
FROM THE ASHES OF THE DEALS THEY MADE!
SO RAISE YOUR BASKETS TO THE SKY AND SCREAM UNTIL YOU'RE SORE!
'CAUSE WE ARE THE KIDS WHO WANTED MORE THAN JUST A SUPERSTORE!
(Outro)
The paper bags... in my getaway car...
(We'll carry on!)
This receipt... like a long white scar...
(We'll carry on!)
I drove through hell for a single cereal bar...
But we'll carry oooooon.....
(Music cuts abruptly with the sound of a plastic bag tearing)
