Someday all these bullshit songs will be of use
Someday all these old refrains will set you loose
Someday you might find
The meaning of the time
You were seduced
You were seduced
Someday you will find the song list makes no sense
The order you imposed is just a pretense
The chorus that meant so much
That chorus is a crutch
And the truth that it avoids is too intense
And the bridge is kind of awkward
And the bridge leads to nowhere
And the refrain circles and circles and circles
On and on and on and on and on and on and on and on
But the song makes a space
But the song makes a space
But the song makes a space
So try to hold on, to hold on, to hold on
Before it slips away
La la la la
(La la la la la)
La la la la
(La la la la la)
And maybe your mother was wrong
To chase a song and run away
Or maybe your father was wrong to stay,
To sit upstairs and paint a space every day,
To save a dream that’s bound to fail,
Like a ring that lets you out of jail,
To sing along that stubborn song
That goes on and on and on and on
Oh…
Someday you will look the fact right in the face:
The world that you remember is a made-up place
And you’ll never get some closure from Holland and Dozier
Sam Cooke and Michael Jackson won’t give no satisfaction
‘Cause whatever song you sing
It doesn’t change a thing
And won’t bring back what’s gone without a trace
But you have to know
There was a place called Dean Street
And my mother had a dream
And there was a boy called Mingus Rude
And he could paint so beautiful, so high
And two boys were friends and they could fly
They could fucking fly
And the song makes a space
(And the song makes a space)
And the song makes a space
(And the song makes a space)
And the song makes a space
(And the song makes a space)
In the middle
In the middle
In the middle
La la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la
