there is no escape from the soundtrack
the all pervasive invasive muzak
the gutted tune without any taste
inspiration turned to industrial waste
trapped in the elevator going down
it's supposed to smooth away the frown
but this is death by jukebox roulette
uninspired musicians play an endless set

through every-second advertising we trawl
every town has caught the disease of mall
all the small shops long ago went to the wall
and we were seduced like angels tricked into the fall
our psychological landscape forever scarred
by the plastic surgery of a sponsored credit card
i sign my life away with an advertising pen
we are the robots come to displace men

every song i claim to have ever loved
down my throat in a saccharine form now shoved
it is like i am a zombie, behaviour drugged
they know me because my breakfast cereal's bugged
i find myself curiously able to sing all
the advertising tunes and each radio jingle
they stole my soul as i sleptwalk through the day
and they continue still expecting me to pay

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