Coca-Cola

A bag is thrown over your head as a kid
To keep germs and ideas from tunneling in
Yet you're stubbing your double-joint foot on your shin
Does no one care to know?
That you take the elevator to your invisible jet
And it's not nearly fast enough but it's as fast as they get
And let's get out the camera when you take your first shit
And relive it in a year.

When you're feeling like your love is just a surrogate child
When your diseases win the walkathon and smirk in their stride
When artificial lighting burns a hole through the night
Does no one know to care?
About your sense of belonging to an underground cult
Toasting your health with your head in the smoke
And if the children of the world can find joy from a coke
Can we mass-produce that here?
Another million shrink-wrapped happy meal treats
Another million children hiding under the sheets
Another million bankers with nothing to eat
But their stomachs full of dimes

And the polygraph test reads your truth as a lie
And our eyes are closed tight in prayer to the sky
And they're gorging themselves on American pie
Cosmetic surgery!