Where the Blockbusters Go

The screen is buzzing with that dead-end hum

I’m staring at the cable, going kind of numb

The DVR’s empty, the signal’s thin

I need a plastic case with a movie in

I grab my keys and a wrinkled ten

Head back to where the nights began

Before the algorithm chose my view

I’m chasing yellow signs and a bucket of blue

I’m driving past the strip mall, searching for the sign

Trying to outrun the hands of time

Is there a flickering neon cutting through the night

Where the New Releases glow in fluorescent light?

Just one more aisle, just one more row

Does anybody remember where the Blockbusters go?

I pass a boarded Circuit City, weeds in the lot

The GPS says, “Yeah… this is the spot”

But it’s a yoga studio, a cold juice bar

I lean on the hood of my rusted car

I can smell the popcorn, the cleaner on the floor

Hear the scanner beep at the counter once more

Flipping through the boxes, hoping I’m lucky

The world moved on — feels rushed and sloppy

Everything’s faster, thinner, compressed

A million choices, none feel best

I’m driving past the strip mall, searching for the sign

Trying to outrun the hands of time

Is there a flickering neon cutting through the night

Where the New Releases glow in fluorescent light?

Just one more aisle, just one more row

Does anybody remember where the Blockbusters go?

I don’t want a menu, I don’t want to scroll

I want something solid to hold my soul

I’ll pay the late fee, I’ll take the blame

Just give me a sticker and a hand-written name

“Be Kind, Rewind” — that was the code

Now I’m buffering life on a high-speed road

Yeah, I’m driving past the strip mall, chasing a sign

Trying to steal back borrowed time

Is there a flickering neon still burning bright

For a Friday night and a case snapped tight?

Just one more aisle, just one more row

Does anybody remember where the Blockbusters go?

Maybe I’ll drive to Bend, Oregon

They say there’s one still holding on

A blue-and-gold ghost in a digital age

Turn the car around…

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