For me these lyrics have stood the test of time, you can feel the traditional Irish poetic writing tradition shining through, which results in such magical imagery.

The Whole of the Moon - The Waterboys

I pictured a rainbow
You held it in your hands
I had flashes
But you saw the plan
I wandered out in the world for years
While you just stayed in your room
I saw the crescent
You saw the whole of the moon
The whole of the moon

Hmm, you were there in the turnstiles, with the wind at your heels
You stretched for the stars and you know how it feels to reach too high
Too far
Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon

I was grounded
While you filled the skies
I was dumbfounded by truth
You cut through lies
I saw the rain dirty valley
You saw Brigadoon
I saw the crescent
You saw the whole of the moon

I spoke about wings
You just flew
I wondered, I guessed and I tried
You just knew
I sighed
But you swooned, I saw the crescent
You saw the whole of the moon
The whole of the moon

With a torch in your pocket and the wind at your heels
You climbed on the ladder and you know how it feels to get too high
Too far
Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon
The whole of the moon, hey yeah!

Unicorns and cannonballs, palaces and piers
Trumpets, towers and tenements
Wide oceans full of tears
Flags, rags ferryboats
Scimitars and scarves
Every precious dream and vision
Underneath the stars, yes, you climbed on the ladder
With the wind in your sails
You came like a comet
Blazing your trail too high
Too far
Too soon
You saw the whole of the moon

Songwriters: Michael Scott
The Whole of the Moon lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

Song Facts:

The "whole of the moon" is the big picture, which takes a particular vision to see. In a Songfacts interview with Waterboys frontman Mike Scott, he said: "I wrote the song when I was 26 years old, and I was discovering that there was so much more than I had ever known. There was so much more to learn than I'd even been hinted at in the culture I'd grown up in. I had a strong sense of wonderment about that, and I realized there were people who had vastly more information in their imaginations and experiences than I had. And so that's what inspired that song."

Who is it that Mike Scott is singing about in this song? Here's what he told us: "It's not a specific person. It's more a type. The point of the song was to illustrate how much more there could be to learn than we had ever guessed. And so, I used that format of songwriting, as if addressing a more knowledgeable or wise being.

Or it could actually have been someone who came into this life and burned out very quickly. Too far, too soon. Like Syd Barret or Jimi Hendrix, who comes in and seems to be possessed by this otherworldly knowledge or inspiration, but burns out quickly then leaves us. That kind of character. It certainly wasn't written about C.S. Lewis, although he was a big spiritual inspiration to me as a child, and through the rest of my life, indeed. And it certainly wasn't about Prince, although there were moments when Prince seemed to embody that sort of person. And it certainly wasn't about my old friend Nikki Sudden, who was a very interesting character, but certainly not the kind of character I was describing in the song."

https://www.songfacts.com/facts/the-waterboys/the-whole-of-the-moon

Fun Bonus:

 

Last edited: Oct 12, 2018

"A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers"
Van der Graaf Generator

Eyewitness
Still waiting for my saviour,
storms tear me limb from limb;
my fingers feel like seaweed...
I'm so far out I'm too far in.
I am a lonely man, my solitude is true
my eyes have borne stark witness
and now my nights are numbered, too.
I've seen the smiles on dead hands,
the stars shine, but they're not for me.
I prophesy disaster and then I count the cost...
I shine but, shining, dying,
I know that I am almost lost.
On the table lies blank paper
and my tower is built on stone
I only have blunt scissors,
I only have the bluntest home...
I've been the witness, and the seal of death
lingers in the molten wax that is my head.
When you see the skeletons
of sailing-ship spars sinking low
You'll begin to wonder if the points
of all the ancients myths
are solemnly directed straight at you...
Pictures/Lighthouse
(Eddies, rocks, ships, collision, remorse)
Eyewitness
No time now for contrition:
the time for that's long past.
The walls are thin as tissue and
if I talk I'll crack the glass.
So I only think on how it might have been,
locked in silent monologue, in silent scream.
I'm much too tired to speak
and, as the waves crash on the bleak
stones of the tower, I start to freak
and find that I am overcome...
S.H.M.
'Unreal, unreal' ghost helmsmen scream
and fall in through the sky,
not breaking through my seagull shrieks...
no breaks until I die:
the spectres scratch on window-slits -
hollowed faces and mindless grins
only intent on destroying what they've lost.
I crawl the wall till steepness ends
in the vertical fall;
my pain has sailed into the sea:
no joking hopes at dawn.
White bone shine in the iron-jaw mask
lost mastheads pierce the freezing dark
and parallel my isolated tower...
no paraffin for the flame
no harbour left to gain.
Presence of the Night / Kosmos Tours
'Alone, alone' the ghosts all call,
pinpoint me in the light.
The only life I feel at all
is the presence of the night.
Would you cry if I died?
Would you catch the final words of mine?
Would you catch my words?
I know that there's no time
I know that there's no rhyme...
false signs find me
I don't want to hate,
I just want to grow;
why can't I let me
live and be free?
but I die very slowly alone.
I know more ways,
I am so afraid,
myself won't let me
just be myself
and so I am completely alone...
The maelstrom of my memory
is a vampire and it feeds on me
now, staggering madly, over the brink I fall.
Last Stand
Lighthouses might house the key
but can I reach the door?
I want to walk on the sea
so that I may better find a shore...
but how can I ever keep my feet dry?
I scan the horizon
I must keep my eyes on all parts of me.
Looking back on the years
it seems that I have lost my way:
Like a dog in the night, I have run to a manger
now I am the stranger I stay in.
All of the grief I have seen
leaves me chasing solitary peace;
But I hold experience in my head...
I'm too close to the light
I don't think I see right, for I blind me...
The Clot Thickens
Where is the God that guides my hand?
How can the hands of others reach me?
When will I find what I grope for?
Who is going to teach me?
I am me / me are we / we can't see
any way out of here.
Crashing sea - a trophied history:
Chance has lost my Guinevere...
I don't want to be one wave in the water
But sea will drag me deep
One more haggard drowned man...
I can see the lemmings coming,
but I know I'm just a man;
Do I join or do I founder?
Which can is the best I may?

"Feed the Enemy"
Magazine

It's always raining over the border
There's been a plane crash out there
In the wheatfields they're picking up the pieces
We could go and look and stare
How many friends have we over there?
The border guards fight unconvincingly
Whatever we do it seems things are arranged
We always have to feed the enemy
You could dance for me
And punch me through
You could dance for me
And punch me through
You could dance for me
And punch me through
You could dance for me
And punch me through
We watched them trash the last camera
Glued to all our TV's
The actors on the replay
Trying again to touch you and me
But they always seem to know
Exactly what they're talking about
They must've got you in a corner
You've got no room to move
You've got no room for doubt
That's exactly what they're talking about
They must've got you in a corner
No room to move
No room for doubt

 

Written with his definitive end in mind, Bowie scraped up the last remaining contents of his rather stocked and overflowing creative barrel, the sendoff to his full life, something crowning and capping it off as a way to perhaps come to terms with his end and to perhaps explain himself to himself. The video supported to lyric well.

 

One more.

Lowden Wainwright III
Red Guitar

The video is sweet but don't watch it.

Please, close your eyes and create your own with your imagination.
It is a perfect, simple song written and sung by a master wordsmith
...and father of another amazing musician, Rufus Wainwright.

 

First and third verse excerpts from the song Breakfast In America by Supertramp:

Take a look at my girlfriend
She's the only one I got
Not much of a girlfriend
I never seem to get a lot

Don't you look at my girlfriend
She's the only one I got
Not much of a girlfriend
I never seem to get a lot

No self loathing, astral travelling lyrics to show the world how noble and deeply loving you really are.

 

Brian Eno - Miss Shapiro

Over forty pointed people
In the perfect pointed steeple
Looked to see the lucky number
Yes the wonder of the tundra
Had come up to fame and fortune
Singing his tune, my tune, your tune
Wooing daughters of the gifted
On the carpets of the courtrooms
While the tickets were expensive
The show was quite relentless in the square.


Smoky broads and smoky windows in the square
Come come charmer come on over for the day
Disappearing cocoa forests flash and die
Fortunes crumble all demolished in the bay


Dalai llama lama puss puss
Stella maris missa nobis
Miss a dinner miss shapiro
Shampoos pot-pot pinkies pampered
Movement hampered like at christmas
Ha-ha isn't life a circus
Round in circles like the archers
Always stiff or always starchy
Yes it's happening and it's fattening
And it's all that we can get into the show

 

Man in The Mirror by Michael Jackson (Songwriters: Glen Ballard / Siedah Garrett)

I'm gonna make a change,
For once I'm my life
It's gonna feel real good,
Gonna make a difference
Gonna make it right
As I, turn up the collar on
My favorite winter coat
This wind is blowing my mind
I see the kids in the streets,
With not enough to eat
Who am I to be blind?
Pretending not to see their needs
A summer disregard, a broken bottle top
And a one man soul
They follow each other on the wind ya' know
'Cause they got nowhere to go
That's why I want you to know
I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you want to make the world a better place
(If you want to make the world a better place)
Take a look at yourself, and then make a change
(Take a look at yourself, and then make a change)
(Na na na, na na na, na na, na nah)
I've been a victim of a selfish kind of love
It's time that I realize
That there are some with no home, not a nickel to loan
Could it be really me, pretending that they're not alone?
A willow deeply scarred, somebody's broken heart
And a washed-out dream
(Washed-out dream)
They follow the pattern of the wind ya' see
'Cause they got no place to be
That's why I'm starting with me
(Starting with me!)
...

 

This is the standout line for me.. "Could it be really me, pretending that they're not alone?"

 

There're many for me, actually i hear several kinds of song, so to mention one is really hard

But this one has meaningful lyrics & relatable to most of us here on AS/AZ

I don't need to be anything other than a prison guard's son
I don't need to be anything other than a specialist's son
I don't have to be anyone other than the birth of two souls in one
Part of where I'm going is knowing where I'm coming from
I don't want to be anything
Other than what I've been trying to be lately
All I have to do is think of me and I have peace of mind
I'm tired of looking around rooms wondering what I gotta do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me
I'm surrounded by liars everywhere I turn
I'm surrounded by imposters everywhere I turn
I'm surrounded by identity crisis everywhere I turn
Am I the only one to notice?
I can't be the only one who's learned
I don't want to be anything
Other than what I've been trying to be lately
All I have to do is think of me and I have peace of mind
I'm tired of looking around rooms wondering what I gotta do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me
Can I have everyone's attention please
If you're not like this and that
You're gonna have to leave
I came from the mountain, the crust of creation
My whole situation made from clay to stone
And now I'm telling everybody
I don't want to be anything
Other than what I've been trying to be lately
All I have to do is think of me and I have peace of mind
I'm tired of looking around rooms wondering what I gotta do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me
I don't want to be
I don't want to be
I don't want to be
I don't want to be.

 

See it never was easy to live with a head
So I kept to the back room and I live there instead
What comes from the front-room is only for "Friends"
I have a bay window but that's where it ends

And it's here I see pictures and my madness is clear
And there's no longer logic so therefore no fear
And I'm almost dead with uncontrollable light
Sometimes when I've written a song - it's alright...

 

Yup, anything Robert Hunter actually. I wore out the grooves from his album Fingers Crossed when he released it in' 2016. He certainly has a way to get below the surface of a subject and expose it to the light of his particular way of experience...like in his ode to his old pal David Bowie. Fantastic. He really expresses his love.

Edit: Worth noting is the fact that the chorus lyric is always different each time it comes around. He really rather is quite genious at this game...and under the radar to many in regard to his great talent.

Something is happening, Mr. Jones
My brother says you're better than the Beatles or the Stones
From Saturday night to Sunday morning
You turned us into heroes
Can you hear the heroes sing

Dandy
You are the prettiest star
There ain't no life on Mars but we always thought there might be

Dandy
You opened up the door
You left us wanting more
And then we took the last bus home

Who let the genie out of the lamp?
The Little Lord Fauntleroy who let him out of his amp
From Saturday night to Sunday morning
Well Trevor's getting bolder
and Woody loves the hit thing

Dandy
This world was black-and-white
You showed us what it's like
To live inside a rainbow

Dandy
You thrilled us to the core
You left us wanting more
And then we took the last bus home

Lie lie la lie
Lie lie la lie

You beat up the liar
You had it all
The voice, the look the songs that shook
The gift of the gab and the gall

From Saturday night to Sunday morning
When all we had to look forward to was the weekend
You made our lives worth living

Dandy
You're still the prettiest star
There ain't no life on Mars but we always thought there might be

Dandy
You took us to the fair
With Cabaret Voltaire
And then we took the last train home

Dandy
You know we waited long enough
They should put a statue up in Piccadilly Circus

Dandy
You blew us all away
Outta the drab and the gray
And then we caught the last bus home

Dandy
The keeper of the flame
We won't see your like again
Oh, Dandy was a one-off

Dandy
Hey, look at what you've become
I guess I owe you one
So thanks for the memories

[/QUOTE]

 

Last edited by a moderator: Oct 8, 2018

One of so many

[Spoken Verse 1]
He would see faces in movies, on TV, in magazines, and in books
He thought that some of these faces might be right for him
And through the years, by keeping an ideal facial structure fixed in his mind
Or somewhere in the back of his mind
That he might, by force of will, cause his face to approach those of his ideal
The change would be very subtle
It might take ten years or so
Gradually his face would change its shape
A more hooked nose
Wider, thinner lips
Beady eyes
A larger forehead

[Spoken Verse 2]
He imagined that this was an ability he shared with most other people
They had also molded their faces according to some ideal
Maybe they imagined that their new face would better suit their personality
Or maybe they imagined that their personality would be forced to change to fit the new appearance
This is why first impressions are often correct
Although some people might have made mistakes
They may have arrived at an appearance that bears no relationship to them
They may have picked an ideal appearance based on some childish whim, or momentary impulse
Some may have gotten halfway there
And then changed their minds

[Outro]
He wonders if he too might have made a similar mistake

 

(I was always partial to Kooks, personally, @superliquidsunshine - gets me in the feels every single time!)

Anyway, for prolixical, slightly annoying and wholly unapologetic lyrics

Lyrics:

Spoiler

Uh, I don’t understand how a writer would ever get writer’s block, so-called. My problem is having too much and being unable to get it down

(Part 1)

Yo, why is the Ripper so ill?
That would be an unpardonable breach of confidence for me to reveal
He said, "One of these days, all eyes would be on me
When they look up in the sky and see the neon C"
Rhymes inscribed on a nickel disk encased
In glass with an ion beam for longevity
For more than ten centuries, impressions and memories
The first time-machine inventor will mention me
Canibus was a visionary indeed
He believed light could travel in multiples of C
The organic supercomputer that solved the mysteries of
Klein-Kaluza with two blue metric rulers

Liked Cool J, but thought Stephen Jay Gould was cooler
And he never liked to propagate rumors
Smoked Canary Island cigars
Liked American luxury cars and beautiful Asian broads
He had a strong mind, he used to philosophize
'Bout rhymes while he was pruning his bonsai
He claimed that he had written the greatest rhyme of all time
But he would never take it out his archives
He wrote two songs per day
And was constantly experimenting with his wordplay
In his youth he did a report on the Sloan Digital Sky Survey
He got an F but he deserved an A

I followed his career from the first day
It seemed a lack of support contributed to his inert ways
I seen him put in twenty-four hour workdays
With deferred pay, undeterred by the word "shame"
Public humiliation was the worst pain
He was spinning out of control like a Class 5 hurricane
He said he wouldn't want another MC to suffer the same
Especially when there's nothing to gain
He was the illest alive but nobody would face it
He spit till his tongue was too torched to taste it

Privately-funded corporations carbon dated his latest creations
To extract the information
They found it utterly amazing
They claimed the body of his work was the same thing as a priceless painting
Never mattered to him that art galleries hated him
'Coz Thomas Kinkade called and said he would take ten
Complete enigmas wrapped in puzzles encrypted in language
With sound but without shape or signature
Kept files in his garage on MS-DOS
In a fire-proof pod, we thought it was odd
Outside there was a shed with an Oppenheimer lock
He apparently kept more wax than Madame Tussaud's
We were in total awe 'cause it blew our minds
So many rhymes that were intricately designed
He was Poet Laureate of his time
And if you don't mind, I'd like to share some of his rhymes:

(Part 2)
Alone in my room looking through the 32X telescope zoom
Adjusting the focus of the moon
One should not assume the philosophy of David Hume
Is nothing more then a subjective conclusion
What is the maximum field rate application?
The runaway glaciation surrounding the ocean basin
Affects the population fluctuation
On a continuous basis; but that's just the basics
The juxtaposition of Canibus' position
The precision of something no other has written
Way above and beyond what was intended
The unparalleled malleable enunciation of a sentence

You didn't go to college obviously
I can tell by your ungodly unintelligible terminology
A remarkable odyssey, the rhymes in modern speeds
When the brain orders the body not to breathe
Your competency is not up to speed, you're not in my league
You couldn't possibly be hotter then me
Or oppositely at minus twenty-five degrees
You'd squeeze, but the condensation makes rifle barrels freeze

Allow me to speak figuratively, nigga please
My intellectual property's about the size of Greece
Your counsellor advised you not to speak
My counsellor advised me to keep rhyming until they stopped the beat
In the words of Joseph Heller: "I learned how to write better"
Even though it sort of irked me
He said he didn't understand the process of the imagination
But he felt he was at its mercy
Which explains my point perfectly and certainly reinforces
The reason why nobody's probably ever heard of me

Couldn't understand what I mean by ill
Unless you try to translate what I print to film
This is the line of reel, the circle of time
The cycle of eternity, the emergence of one mind
Academic phonetics render critics tongue-tied
The personified dry humor of cum laude alumni
A wise man sees failure as progress
A fool divorces his knowledge and misses the logic
And loses his soul in the process
Obsessed with nonsense with a caricature that has no content
My style is masterful, multilateral
I could battle a fool and be naturally cruel
Words of scorn are a disastrous tool
From an existentialist's view I'm a better rapper than you

Grab the mic and rip your physical fabric in two
My attitude is fucked up but admirable
Different methods interpreted into different forms
From entirely different perceptions and seen from different norms
Not just spitting a poem, there’s much more involved
There's much more pieces of the puzzle for you to solve
Forty-eight orders of mechanical laws
And rays of creational cause enhance the cadence of my bars
Maybe I am self-absorbed
But that's the effect, to find the cause you should ask my A&R
Today is what it is, but only because yesterday was what it was
Permitting you heard of Beelzebub
A tale of demons and drugs, pissy drunk in the club
With the DJ doing the needle rub
Chances are you'll never see me son
Yeah I know my name's Canibus but I can't help you if you need a dub

I came to holla at some big booty bitches and listen to the speakers thump
Where you get conceited from?
I'm so nice on the mic they wanna beat me up
It's deep as fuck, I ain't seen it all but I've seen enough
Really unbelievable stuff
There's a lot of times when I want to speak but I'm stuck
I should leave this rap shit alone
And kick my incredible rhymes in the privacy of my own home
My imagination is my own
The liberty to speak to freely lyrically on the microphone
With a pen in my hand, I bring motion to the Enneagram
And become "Can-I Millenium Man"

Engrave my back with the emperor's stamp
Been spitting scientific rap since the 17th century began
Trying to escape the wicked empire of Def Jam
And the land where lyrics are bland and heretics hang
Every warrior has an axe to bury
But he has to learn to discern between enemy and adversary
I said to myself, "Germaine, this is insane
It's suicide, it's controlled flight into terrain"
I fought to regain control of the plane, but went up in a ball of flames
And got banned from the Hip-Hop hall of fame
For two bars I kept hearing in my head
Over and over again, it cost me everything

(Part 3)

I'm convinced now that more than the truth is at stake
Where people create language the intent is to communicate
Euphemisms are misunderstood as mistakes
But its a byproduct of the ghetto music we make
From an extroverted point of view I think its too late
Hip Hop has never been the same since '88
Since it became a lucrative profession
There's a misconception that a movement in any direction is progression
Even though the potency of it lessens
Big money industries writing checks to suppress the question
And nobody gives a fuck no more, no one goes to the book store
Ever since the confluence of Moore's Law
But I stay in the lab like Niels Bohr and his son Aage
Edward Lorenz and Leo Szilard

Lyrically I took rap music and turned the knob
To the right full throttle and added a notch
Why would I argue with my own conscience over the truth?
That's like me telling myself, "Don't tell me what to do"
Dialyses and analyses of battle MCs
Sometimes I say things I myself can't believe
My lyrical is so skillfully elliptical
I can understand how it makes you miserable
You wonder why I never let you play your beats for me
Or why I keep my studio enshrouded in secrecy
You wonder what's my infatuation with Alicia Keys
"Canibus why don't you speak to me?"
Yo, I meant it when I said no one can shine on a song that features me
That's why I said it so vehemently
You need to replace the hate with respect
I'm probably the best yet, Poet Laureate

 

Thanks for the input guys. I've been asked to help with some lyrics and my brain was frozen. At least it's starting to loosen up a bit now

 

It wouldn't be complete without some gritty Americana ..

Atlantic City - BruceSpringsteen

Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
Now they blew up his house too
Down on the boardwalk they're gettin' ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do

Now there's trouble busin' in from outta state
And the D.A. can't get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gamblin' commission's hangin' on by the skin of its teeth

Well now everything dies baby that's a fact
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, put your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Well I got a job and tried to put my money away
But I got debts that no honest man can pay
So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus

Now baby everything dies honey that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, put your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
But with you forever I'll stay
We're goin' out where the sand's turnin' to gold
And put on your stockin's baby 'cause the night's getting' cold
Maybe everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Now I've been lookin' for a job but it's hard to find
Down here it's just winners and losers
And don't get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well I'm tired of comin' out on the losin' end
So honey last night I met this guy
And I'm gonna do a little favor for him
Well I guess everything dies baby that's a fact
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your hair up nice and pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Songwriters: Bruce Springsteen
Atlantic City lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

 

Last edited: Oct 8, 2018

"Land Of Confusion"

I must've dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams
But I can hear the marching feet
They're moving into the street.

Now did you read the news today
They say the danger's gone away
But I can see the fire's still alight
There burning into the night.

There's too many men
Too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can't you see
This is a land of confusion.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

Ooh Superman where are you now
When everything's gone wrong somehow
The men of steel, the men of power
Are losing control by the hour.

This is the time
This is the place
So we look for the future
But there's not much love to go round
Tell me why, this is a land of confusion.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

I remember long ago -
Ooh when the sun was shining
Yes and the stars were bright
All through the night
And the sound of your laughter
As I held you tight
So long ago -

I won't be coming home tonight
My generation will put it right
We're not just making promises
That we know, we'll never keep.

Too many men
There's too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can't you see
This is a land of confusion.

Now this is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth fighting for.

This is the world we live in
And these are the names we're given
Stand up and let's start showing
Just where our lives are going to.

 

Massive Attack - What your soul sings (Sinead o'Connor)

Don't be afraid
Open your mouth to say
Say what your soul sings to you
Your mind can never change
Unless you ask it to
Lovingly re-arrange
The thoughts that make you blue
The things that bring you down
Only do harm to you
So make your choice joy
For joy belongs to you
And when you do
You'll find the one you love is you
You'll find you love you
Don't be ashamed, no
To open your heart and pray
Say what your soul sings
To you
So no longer pretend
That you can't feel it near
That tickle on your hand
That tingle in your ear
Oh ask it anything
Because it loves you dear
It's your most precious king
If only you could hear
And when you do
You'll find the one you need is you
You'll find you love you

 

Those times went by when people had time to ponder on the lyrics and music.

Now this musicless and lyricless I-don't-know-what-it-is is the test of time:
https://clyp.it/g0lft0ar