Frankly, we couldn't even begin to tell you what the song was about, because 20 seconds into it we had to turn over, or we'd have put our knees through the telly screen... at roughly the height of the performers' throats.
That might seem slightly excessive, but such things push the same buttons in us as - just plucking some examples out of the air here - Ainsley Harriott, Annie Lennox and Dynamo the "Street" Magician.
"Oh look at me, grandad, look - I'm floating! Not really - ha ha! It's just a trick: I'm hanging from some wires, and... oh. Grandad! Grandad, I pooed my pants again!".
Tell us: how is that "street" or "magic"? You can't put a skinny man in a hoodie, and film him doing card tricks with a rapper, and expect us to buy that he's some urban tough... any more than you can sell us that Ainsley Harriott is anything other than a profligate, snake oil, opportunist, who has mistakenly assumed volume and stupid voices are qualities essential to being a TV chef.
Something else you can add to our list of things that stoke an unreasonable amount of homicidal rage in us is this thing: acapella groups.
We dunno. It probably has to do with the insufferable smugness of these people, coupled to the sheer, profound artistic vacuum they create upon the cultural landscape.
For no reason other than as a social experiment, here's a selection of video game themes rendered through the medium of vocal-only performances. We defy you to watch them without murdering someone.