It's easy to write a song about love.
It's easy to write a song about hate.
I want a song that I can UNDERSTAND
I think therefore I am - Descartes is out to lunch.
And I can't find a seat at Rousseau's brunch.
She said maybe I will join you for the ball
You how much she loves to be indiscreet
She don't dance to music and she don't feel the beat
From the tip of her cerebrum to the soles of her feet
Everybody's working for the hump day
Everybody seems like Wednesday's child
We shuffle up our playlists and we cry like crocodiles
Lamenting that our nature's not sufficiently wild
She asked me how I felt - I almost fell
And I stammered on my way down to the floor
faltering and falling I said I feel the light
as we drifted into some unprivate hell
It's easy to write a song about love.
It's easy to write a song about hate.
I want a song that I can UNDERSTAND
I think therefore I am - Descartes is out to lunch.
And I can't find a seat at Rousseau's brunch.