A dancier, folkier tune about coming together as a community to fry some marshmallows over the glow of your favourite department store (whatever you take the term to mean) as it burns to the ground.
lyrics
We're all so many guns with puppets stuck to our heads
They don't like what we do
And the trains blow through the station, we can never slow them down
No they don't like, no they don't like what we do
And there's a woman who's always screaming
But she's yelled back at by a man
There's a kid lying face first head in his hands
Shit, he ain't ever gonna wanna understand
So he runs to the far side of town
Where he thinks he can find something to blame
And now the malls are all aflame
Now the malls are all aflame
Cause they don't like no, well they don't like what we do!
And we're all tripping over each other in a hurry to see the light
Hope the party doesn't end before we arrive
Now the malls are all on fire
Now the malls are all on fire
Cause they don't like, they don't like what we do
No but we don't like, no we don't like what they do!
credits
from Part I: Mallrats,
released September 9, 2009
Music by The Liar's Chair
Lyrics by Michael McCormack
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