In an ancient time he came across the sea
Not much more in his head than traditional recipes
All he wanted to do was following his dream
Of customized gastronomy
Day after day he's in the pre-town-café selling
Refreshing drinks and foreign specialities
Yeah he's the man, damn, no ham in his pan but he does what he can
To make you come back again, yo
You would be baffled if you tried his delicious falafel
Always exquisite so come and visit his castle and eat
Some french fries sold for a reasonable prize
No strings attached and no corporate disguise, nope!
It's a delight...
But no-one really cares about...
Mista Syme
But he's got what you need
Quality, sympathy, respectable abilities
Mista Syme
Even though he's unique
The crowd's staying out too proud anyhow
(The crowd's staying out and judge the food they don't know shit about)
It's up to you, bitch, whether you're a limp or a stiff dick
Appreciated customer or just statistics
We're misfits, trying to keep resisting the funnel
With a fist in the air screaming Fuck McDonald's!
Big time combine spreading around
Represented by a greedy child molesting clown
What the fuck clamped down on you? dumb and blind you do
Everything that yellow "M" invited you to– shit!
You think it's right?
He gets up at five o' clock in the morning
Standing around all day is fucking boring
He gets up at five o' clock in the morning
Standing around all day Mista Syme gets bored
And once again he's lying awake in bed
It's hard to sleep with thoughts of vengeance in your head
So he's getting up and he's marching towards the station
To the metastasis of fast-food-nation
And Syme's dropping his pants and takes a shit as a symbol of his resistance
But no-one really cares about...