Gaudy disco music blares from every direction
As you see yourself in the full length mirror shocked at the reflection
Whilst outside women boast of needing a smaller size
Yet that outfit pleads not to be united with your cottage cheese thighs

Peering out to gage reaction from whoever you've dragged out
Being greeted by rows of tired male spouses bogging you out
Getting desperate now surely theres something here worth buying
It's your big night out by now you're practically crying

Spotting the reduce section there's renewed optimism
Yet the sight of bedraggled shoppers rifling through causes an anyeruism
They push each hanger along with a steely sense of rage
Whilst bored 16 year old workers ponder their wage

In come shuffling the young mums' brigade
With prams, a spotty youth boyfriend and a pushy friend they wade
Hold silver G-strings proudly against their crevasses of flab
Voicing their opinions on everything loudly, the gift of the teenage gab

The only time the shop staff smile to offer you a store card when you buy
So they can bombard you with threats when your debts are sky high
So you save 10% filling out a long-winded poxy form
Surely offering discounts in shops should already be the norm

Mature managers of 50 with frizzy blond hair and faces caked
Interfere behind younger staff their false smiles half baked
Fuss like rabid peacocks trying to look like they're in control
Double checking transactions like some hidden agended mole

Running for mercy from this high street hell
You didn't find anything in there so it's just as well
Your chances of looking like Catherine Zeta Jones becoming nought
But you've still go Etam to go and Bon Marche as a last resort!