This is not what a song should do

Verse 1

You don’t rhyme “plunger” with “lover’s gaze”

You don’t sing about delays

Or the weird mole on your back

Or that dream where your dentist attacks

Chorus

This is not what a song should do

No stars, no hearts, no skies of blue

Just nonsense tripping in plain old shoes

Everything a song should never say — and I just did too

Verse 2

No verse about tax returns or mold

Or that toenail you lost in the cold

Nothing sweet about a traffic jam

Or the smell of grandma’s old ham

Chorus

This is not the anthem of the soul

No violins, no self-control

It’s laundry lists and toilet rolls

Everything a song should never hold

Bridge

Don’t mention the Wi-Fi’s weak again

Or the printer that jams in the rain

Don’t dedicate a line to your rash

Or confess you once loved potato mash

Verse 3 (deadpan spoken)

You don’t serenade expired milk

Or praise your pants made out of silk

You don’t mourn your neighbor’s pet fish

Or admit you once ate soap… on a dare… like, on a dish

Final Chorus (slow and grand)

This is not the kind that makes you swoon

No metaphors about the moon

Just all the things that make songs die

And somehow — this one stayed alive

Outro (whispered)

Sorry.