Verse 1 (Pulsing synth line and a cheesy acoustic guitar strum begins) Welcome to the spot, where the salsa is a lie, And the only thing authentic is the tear in the apron I buy. We slingin' Bad Enchiladas, three times the actual cost, A cheap-ass Margarita where the tequila's mostly lost. The paychecks are a joke, the tips are kind of rough, But it's easy and it's family, and somehow, that's enough. We like to have some fun, yeah, the chaos is our glue, But the benefits fade, and the gloom starts seeping through. Chorus (Beat drops, dramatic key change, driving drums) 'Cause THE DAMN PLACE ARE DARK! DARK! DARK! Rats move through the mall like a sad, soggy mark. They hate the truth, they hate the laughter, they are fuelled by dread, They stir up negativity, the poison they have fed. They say the floor is sticky, they say the ice machine's broke, It's just the DEMON OF BOREDOM taking over with a cloak! So grab a straw, take a shot, 'cause when the sun goes down, The workers are a lighthouse in this tacky little town! Verse 2 (Tempo slightly slows, spoken-word style delivery over a funky bass line) I swear there's a demon here, it hops from soul to soul, Possessing anyone who's got too much joy to control. We all know the witches, yeah, we see the passive-aggression, They leave a note about 'cleanliness' for a mandatory session. They claim we used a coupon that expired way back when, They hide the good sharpie, and they break all the pens! The worst part is listening, to the whispers and the scowls, While they talk about your life, wrapped up in judgmental towels. Bridge (Acoustic guitar and bass build tension, slightly theatrical, almost a sea shanty feel) It's an irony so grand, it’s a cosmic, twisted gag, This whole operation runs on the fumes of a paper bag. This restaurant, stuck here in a fucking mall, that died last decade, Should be the darkest place, where every good mood’s betrayed... BUT IT'S OPPOSITE! Can you feel the switch? Chorus (Full power return, louder, faster, with a soaring backing vocal) 'Cause THE DAMN PLACE IS DARK! DARK! DARK! They move through the mall like a sad, rats makin mark. They hate the truth, they hate the laughter, they are fuelled by dread, They stir up negativity, the poison they have fed. They say the floor is sticky, they say the ice machine's broke, It's just the DEMON OF BOREDOM taking over with a cloak! So grab a straw, take a shot, 'cause when the sun goes down, Rats come out and say we're a lighthouse in this tacky little town! Outro (Instrumental fades, leaving just the bass and drums, then a final shout) we love we laugh and joke, tables notice, they're having fun! We turn those bad moods 'round, we get the real work done. The demons are dark, the corporation sucksT! Yeah, we are the light! (Single, aggressive cymbal crash) Now, run your goddamn food!
