So here's a sale to sooth recession
And an ad campaign to calm the credit crisis
At five A.M. the doors broke open
And then a man lay dying on the sales floor
The store was back open by mid-afternoon
We're eating the sh** we've been talking
As we search for absolution in these diatribes
We'll find, that there's no absolution for the feet or the tile floor
It seems we'll trade d**h for discount
As we watch ourselves turn to sh**, on an L.C.D. screen
We've become the f*cking herd and we've become the stampede
I can't seem to plot this point on the map of where we were born and raised
Somewhere in the newspapers my parents read, there is a help wanted ad
To replace the frontlines of the free market
I can't seem to plot this point on the charts and graphs
That describe how we languish in our economic decline
It seems we'll trade d**h for discount
We're capable of every f*cked up thing that they invite us to be
As we're penned in the gates of the profit margin