Thumb Cinema The World/Inferno Friendship Society

Every commercial makes us die, a little bit
Every pop star makes us doubt, a little bit
Every new car makes us choke
On how little air we get and how we get it

The celebrity makes us filthy, a little bit
Every single ad makes us gag, a little bit
Every photograph makes us age
Each sound bite deafens, each sales event condemns

Talk about luck, you tell me, tell me what I got
You fucking give it to me, I won, I win a lot
You're not happy, well, no one gives a shit
This is a game and you're a part of it
Maybe it's time for you to quit

Because every new car you buy
It makes the poor baby Jesus cry
Nothing bought or sold is good for him
For you, for me, not good for anybody, alright

Give me your coins and I'll spend them away, one by one
Give me the chips and I'll play them, before the game has begun
No one is happy and no one gives a damn
No one can tell me who I am or make me pay them back