The behemoth rises on the hill outside of town
Invites one and all with it’s glittering prizes
once you’ve accepted it’s invitation you’re doomed
Mom and pop shop keepers can see, as it
Consumes their livelihoods, swallows their dreams
It sucks up your soul too, but you’re too jazzed to know
You’ve saved so much money you can’t begin to wonder why
A toaster, plastic parts, metal ones too, and wires, and
A Lever, this thing had to be assembled, and has something to do
Costs half as much as a plastic tub, that fits three of them.
Never mind that the door on the bottom won’t stay shut,
It was only seven bucks! Never mind the seven year old
who made it only got a nickel, not playtime or education.
So every six months or so you’ll need a new one,
If it doesn’t catch your house on fire. And so they’ve named you
Consumer. But what you do to their plastic junk, they do to your soul.
The only thing that grows is the festering rot and decay
On this they rise, as on the bloated roadkill carcass of your
Quaint little downtown