Fine Foods Market by Tim Barry Lyrics
[Verse 1]
The lottery line at Fine Foods
Is three blocks long
And Hasan's selling PBR
To hipsters with ironic mustaches
Who most definitely once were punk
But now wear flannel
And scream over bar chords
On acoustic guitars
The park's full of scum fucks
Oggles and train kids
Busking and flying signs for sparks and beast ice
But not food for their dogs
Not laundromats to clean their clothes
They don't even shower but that's how it goes
[Chorus]
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
I do not
[Verse 2]
You see I grew up in a traffic jam
A cul-de-sac all-American
With tapered jeans and leather jackets and Nike high-tops
A hair farmer from the suburbs
A drunk speed metal drummer
Now how the hell did I end up in a Realtree camo and Carharts
It's safe to say that I lost grip
Oh look, there goes another 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 his mother's credit card
[Chorus]
And I don't care much either way
Cause when they're 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
The lottery line at Fine Foods
Is three blocks long
And Hasan's selling PBR
To hipsters with ironic mustaches
Who most definitely once were punk
But now wear flannel
And scream over bar chords
On acoustic guitars
The park's full of scum fucks
Oggles and train kids
Busking and flying signs for sparks and beast ice
But not food for their dogs
Not laundromats to clean their clothes
They don't even shower but that's how it goes
[Chorus]
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
I do not
[Verse 2]
You see I grew up in a traffic jam
A cul-de-sac all-American
With tapered jeans and leather jackets and Nike high-tops
A hair farmer from the suburbs
A drunk speed metal drummer
Now how the hell did I end up in a Realtree camo and Carharts
It's safe to say that I lost grip
Oh look, there goes another 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 his mother's credit card
[Chorus]
And I don't care much either way
Cause when they're 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