Shitty Center Kroger: Memorial Drive Citi Center

Lyrics

Memorial Drive.
The sun hits the glass just so.
Yeah. You know the one.
The parking lot breathes oil slicks.
Little black rainbows after a summer rain.
Every pothole has a name, a history.
That one over there ate a Goodyear tire in '09.
Cart returns are just suggestions.
The buggies drift like lonely ships on a gray sea.
You grip the plastic handle, still sticky from the last person.
No sanitizing wipes here.
Just the honest grit of a thousand other hands.
They call it Shitty Center, don't they?
Whisper it like a secret, say it like a prayer.
This ain't for the tourists, ain't for the curated feeds.
This is where the city comes to eat.
The real city.
No shine, just the truth under fluorescent lights.
Aisle five, the lights flicker a nervous rhythm.
Morse code for "spill on aisle three."
You never know about the bathroom.
It’s a game of chance.
A missing lock, a soap dispenser with a story to tell, a truth scrawled in Sharpie next to the mirror.
You come for milk and bread and leave with a little piece of art.
Or a question you can't answer.
My cart's got off-brand chips and a gallon of sweet tea.
Nobody's judging.
They call it Shitty Center, don't they?
Whisper it like a secret, say it like a prayer.
This ain't for the tourists, ain't for the curated feeds.
This is where the city comes to eat.
The real city.
No shine, just the truth under fluorescent lights.
You don't come here for the artisanal cheese selection.
You don't come here for the wine tastings on a Friday.
You come here because your car's making a funny noise and you need to be close to home.
You come here because it doesn't lie to you.
This building, this lot, this stretch of Memorial...
It’s got no mask on.
It is what it is.
And so are you.
The checkout girl, she knows your brand of cigarettes without asking.
That's a kind of welcome.
They call it Citi Center on the sign.
Sure they do.