Tim Barry - Fine Foods Market lyrics

The Lottery line at Fine Foods is three blocks long And Hussein"s selling PBR to Hispsters with ironic mustaches Who most definitely once were punk, but now wear flannel And scream over bar chords on acoustic guitars The parks full of scum f**s oggles and train kid Busking and flying signs for sparks and beast ice But not food for their dog,not laundrys to clean their clothes They don't even shower but that's how it go's And I don't care much either way,cause when their my age they'll all own SAABS Vacation homes with pending divorce, memberships at the golf course But I do not ,no I do not You see i was born in a traffic jam, a cul-de-sac all american With taperd jeans and leather jackets and nike hightops A hair farmer from the suburbs, a drunk speed metal drummer Now how the hell did i end up a realtree camo and carharts It's safe to say that I lost grip,oh look there goesanother Hipster kid In neon on a track bike paying a school to learn art A buy green vegetarian,a fashion Icon charlatan,at the bar buying rounds On hi mothers credit card And i don't care much either way.cause when their my age they'll all own SAABS Vacation homes with pending divorce,memberships at the golf course But i do not hell no ,no i do not