[Intro — bright, plastic, too-happy] Step into the light of the arch... welcome, welcome, lunch is served... [Verse 1 — glossy, proud, leering] Gather round the screen now — holy cow, just look at the size of the meat, two quarter-pound patties and the special sauce coherst from berries. I don't know how to attack it — but there's so much going on for you — so I love this — here's the word — this product. You'll suck it down on cue. I'm the man they pay to be praised, they pay me with a pearl smile, so you're gonna do the tasting… open wide… in a little while. [Pre-chorus — the tell] Watch you take the bite — (the biggest bite I've ever seen) — watch the camera zoom while you swallow it down clean. I won't swallow — God forbid — but that's the deal for you: down on your knees at the window, open up, and chew. [Chorus — maximum gloss] I love this product! (it is so good!) I'd eat one every day — if a CEO could. It's a big bite for a Big Arch, it's distinctively divine — I love this product! Now watch me hold it to the line — take the smallest little— [Heckle 1 — music drops out, dry spoken, sparse] …this man does not eat here. Look at him. He'd read the ingredients off the back of a banana. He'd check an orange for a warning label. He'd ask an apple for a source. One product, please. Hold the food. …only thing missing's a napkin. [Verse 2 — the reveal, still proud, music curdling] Now you're asking who inspects it, who decides that it's alright — funny that you mention, it's a panel. Mine. Tonight. I hired my own experts — and my experts are the best — they read my secret data, gave themselves the safety test. Generally recognized as safe — by me, by us, by we, and I never told the regulator, that's the beauty, don't you see? Since 'ninety-seven I'm the priest and the choir and the pew, I bless my own communion and I ladle it to you. [Chorus 2 — same words, the sweetness now rotten] I love this product! (it is so good!) I'd eat one every day — if a CEO could. It's a big bite for a Big Arch, it's distinctively divine — I love this product! Now watch me hold it to the line — take the smallest little— [Bridge — the slop lullaby: soft, sung sweet, grotesque underneath] Hush now. Open up. Here comes the spoon. Grey little miracle, warm as a wound, mostly air and adjective, a sigh in a bun — you won't feel full, sweetheart. That's how it's done. Don't wipe your mouth. No — leave it. Let it run. It looks good on you. That's the whole point, hun. Swallow what I won't. Lick the tray, lick the seam. Wear the McKingdom like it's wearing a dream. Good. Now thank me. Now open again. I won't tell you what's in it — I don't have to, friend. [Heckle 2 — dry, bleak] He won't eat it. He'll watch you wear it, though — chin to collar, grateful and glazed. He'll feed you a faith he will not swallow and tell you the drip down your throat is love. Don't wipe your mouth. …there was never a napkin. [Outro — hollow, distorted, the cheer gone wrong] I love this product. (it is so good.) I'd eat one every day — if a CEO could. Hold it to the camera. Take the bite. [cut] I'll finish it… later. Off camera. Trust me. …holy cow. (mmmmm)
