Discount Bin Singles
Our cases are cracked, our
plastic wraps have slacked,
and our cover art is creased.
Our shame will never cease till they
cart us to the trash, this is no
flash of insight, we've known this all along.
Such is the life of Discount Bin
Singles
by no-name artists and
faded stars -
it is past their prime, and we're
a dozen a dime,
you'll find us in the corner where no one goes,
nobody knows
who we are or
what we sing.
All we've got are the wretched things
on our see-through skin -
4 dollars special, in
bright neon green,
this is a tragedy we've never seen
and never heard.
We are not second rate, we're third.
We are both Discount Bin and
single, joined by what we are,
and yet so far apart.
Plastic, paper, and pseudo art.
We're the same, orphaned and trash,
dying in the same discount stash,
and yet we'll never be.
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