Fine Food Market

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[Verse]
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The lottery line at Fine Foods is three blocks long
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And Hasan's selling PBR to hispsters with ironic mustaches
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Who most definitely once were punk, and now wear flannel
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And scream over bar chords on acoustic guitars
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The parks full of scum fucks, oogles and train kids
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Busking and flying signs for sparks and beast ice
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But not food for their dogs, not laundromats to clean their clothes
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They don't even shower but that's how it goes

[Chorus]
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And I don't care much either way, cause when they're my age they'll all own SAABS
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Vacation homes with pending divorce, memberships at the golf course
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But I do not, hell no, no I do not

[Verse]
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You see I grew up in a traffic jam, a cul-de-sac all american
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With tapered jeans and leather jackets and Nike hightops
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A hair farmer from the suburbs, a drunk speed metal drummer
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Now how the hell did I end up in Realtree camo and Carhartts
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It's safe to say that I've lost grip,oh look there goes another Hipster kid
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In neon on a track bike paying a school to learn art
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A buy green vegetarian, a fashion icon charlatan, at the bar buying rounds
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With his mother's credit card

[Chorus]
F                     G           C                                 F
And I don't care much either way, cause when they're my age they'll all own SAABS
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Vacation homes with pending divorce, memberships at the golf course
         G                     C
But I do not, hell no, no I do not

[Solo]
F C F C F C G

[Chorus]
F                     G           C                                 F
And I don't care much either way, cause when they're my age they'll all own SAABS
C                   F                C                  F          C
Vacation homes with pending divorce, memberships at the golf course
         G             C   F C
But I do not,  no I do not