Mmm Mmm Goodbye

[Verse 1]
I grew up on your red-and-white promise,
Spoon in my hand since I could stand,
Grandma said, “Boy, that’s the good stuff,”
Mmm Mmm Good, straight from the can.
But I heard your VP spill the beans,
On a hot mic he couldn’t hide—
“Bioengineered slop in every drop,
I wouldn’t touch it if you paid me triple-wide.”[Chorus]
Mmm Mmm Good? Nah, Mmm Mmm Fraud,
Corn DNA where the chicken used to be.
Soy in my noodles, 3D-printed goo,
You took my childhood and you GMO’d it from me.
Mmm Mmm Good—yeah, that’s a lie you still sell,
While the factory laughs all the way to hell.[Verse 2]
You told me back in ’75,
Soup Is Good Food, warm in my soul.
Now it’s “good food” with a barcode tattoo,
Franken-corn swimming in every bowl.
Never underestimate the power of soup!
Damn right—I never thought it could poison the truth.[Chorus]
Give me the Campbell life? Hell no,
You gave me the lab-coat life instead.
Possibilities? Yeah, endless ways to lie,
While real tomatoes lie rotting and dead.
So Many Many Reasons It’s So Mmm Mmm Good—
Here’s one big reason it ain’t:
You snuck that bioengineered junk
In the same can that Grandma called “saint.”[Bridge – spoken, slow and bitter]
Made for real, real life…
Real life now includes glypho-soy surprise?
It’s Amazing What Soup Can Do!
It can break a thirty-year trust in one single bite.[Verse 3]
I see your shiny new cans on the shelf,
Still wearing that innocent red-and-white dress,
But I read the fine print now, Campbell’s,
And the fine print says you couldn’t care less.
You traded the farm for a patent and printer,
Traded my trust for a stock-price spike—
Tastes like betrayal with a hint of corn syrup,
And a chemical finish that burns twice.[Final Chorus – full rage]
Mmm Mmm Good? More like Mmm Mmm Goodbye,
I’m pouring you out in the yard tonight.
Never underestimate the power of soup—
It just radicalized one more ex-fan for life.
You had so many many reasons to stay honest…
But greed was the only one you heard.
Mmm Mmm Good?
Kiss my ass, Campbell’s—that’s the last word.[Outro – quiet, cold]
Made for real, real life?
Nah.
Made for real, real lies.[End on a single sour guitar note and the sound of a can hitting the trash.]

Aggressive, Dark, Androgynous Vocals, Frantic, Driving, Country, Alternative, Rhythm Guitar, Banjo, Drums, Violin