Chorus: You're buying the package, You're buying the dream, You pay for the ads On the television screen, They sell you a story, They sell you a mood, But what they don't deliver is food.
Colors, preservatives, Poison or not. Just so it sells And is sure not to rot. Colorings, additives, Nothing is real, No sensible maggot Would call it a meal.
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Movie star glamour, The ad man's display, Pay at the check out And take it away, The package it comes in More nourishing far Than stuff in the box Or the jar.
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The label it reads Like an alchemist's dream, You look at the contents And what does it mean? Profits for business And nothing for you, But sugar and grief, And a wheat flake or two.
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Refined till its tasteless, And taste added in, The stockmarket rises, Executives grin, They'd never get rich If you ate what you should, There's profit in ads So why bother with food?
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Movie star glamour And slogans that stick, What do they care If the stuff makes you sick? Big corporations Have better to do Than think of the health Of the customer, too.