Love songs used to be so beautiful
"Let us go then, you and I
When the evening is spread out
against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table"
T.s. Eliot
Nowadays, thanks to corporately-owned
pop stars
Love songs are even more beautiful
How beautiful are today's love songs?
I'll show you
I love your hair, I love your name,
I love the way you say it
I love your heart, and you're so smart,
'cause you gave away it
I love your sis, I love your dad,
I love your mum
But more than all of that
I love the fact that you are dumb enough
(Swag!) To not realize everything I've said
has been said before
In a thousand ways, in a thousand songs
Sung with the same four chords
But you'll still love it and let me finger you
(Finger you?)
Yeah, finger you!
FINGER YOU!
Oh girl, I hope you don't think
that I'm rude
When I tell you that I love you, boo
I also hope that you don't see through
This cleverly constructed ruse
Designed by a marketing team
Cashing in on puberty and low self esteem
And girls' desperate need to feel loved
(Love! Love, love, love, love)
(Please love me!)
America says we love a chorus
But don't get complicated and bore us
Though meaning might be missin'
We need to know the words
after just one listen, so
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, yeah
(Repeat stuff! Yeah, repeat stuff!)
I love my baby and you know
I couldn't live without her
But now I need to make
every girl think this song's about her
Just to make sure
that they spread it like the plague
So I describe my dream girl as really,
really vague like
I love your hands,
'cause your fingerprints are like no other
I love your eyes and their blueish,
brownish, greenish color
I love it when you smile,
that you smile wide
And I love how your torso
has an arm on either side, now
If you're my agent,
you might be thinking
"Oh no, sound the alarms!
You're not appealing
To little girls who don't have arms"
But they can't use iTunes, so
Fuck 'em, who needs 'em?
Oh girl, I hope you don't think
that I'm rude
When I tell you that I love you, boo
I also hope that you don't see through
This cleverly constructed ruse
Designed by a marketing team
Cashing in on puberty and low self esteem
And girls' desperate need to feel loved
America says we love a chorus
But don't get complicated and bore us
Though meaning might be missin'
We need to know the words
after just one listen, so
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, yeah
I'm in magazines full of model teens
So far above you
So read them and hate yourself
Then pay me to tell you, "I love you"
(I love you)
And your parents will always
come along
Because their little girl is in love
And how could love be wrong?
How could love be wrong?
When you repeat stuff,
repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff
Repeat stuff, yeah