…and fuck shit up. Liberate the food court; steal the coins from the fountains and take all those suburban wishes with us; abuse the free sample lady. Set fire to Sears and take our feet out at Dick Locker and flood Nordstrom’s to stage mock navel oranges.
Let’s all fall out of love at Sbarro’s, and back into it in Sam Goody’s.
(Song’s a little over a minute long, and it’s utterly perfect. Listen to it real damn loud.)