“I’ve seen all good people turn their heads each day
So satisfied I’m on my way
. . . . .
Don’t surround yourself with yourself
Move on back two squares
Send an instant karma to me
Initial it with loving care
'Cause his time is time, in time with your time
And its news is captured
For the queen to use!”
Makes perfect sense to me. But I believe great songs are created with a blend of sound and words. Reading stand-alone lyrics from Anderson/Yes… Reid/Procol Harum… Sinfield/ King Crimson, etc… Hendrix… can be a twist of logic but when combined with sound reflecting the lyrics… (or lyrics reflecting the sound) we now enjoy the best of sound poetry (at least to those of us accustomed to experiencing Prog with enhancements 
)
Here’s what Keith Reid has to say about his lyric/sound pictures…
In this particular case, I’m sure the queen enjoyed the news. Or at least I saw her smiling. 
According to Mark’s memoir he was sitting in the hallway just outside his parents door, listening to them fight leading up to their divorce. He accidentally coughed, they heard him and stopped fighting. He turned to run down the hall so he wouldn’t get caught listening to their fight. In doing so, he kicked his cup of apple juice he had been drinking and it spilled all over the hallway. His dad was the breadwinner and had an affair which lead to the divorce. It wasn’t his mom’s fault. Seems like a core memory of a terrible and pivotal time in his life.
edit:
as a teenager i thought of that line meaning this kid spilled apple juice in the hall and his mom probably yelled at him for it then later the kid killed himself and the mom blamed herself because she yelled at him before. although at the end of the song he doesn’t kill himself he just sits in his room alone, but that’s what i thought it meant
Jon Anderson has stated that Yes lyrics are often little more than tone poetry, words chosen for sound more than meaning.
Yes lyrics aren’t intended to make sense in the conventional method
I myself have wondered what is a shining flying purple wolfhound and where are they? (Your is no Disgrace)
Ok so I’m a Lyrics Person and even studied poetry in college before switching and I can often make sense of most ANYTHING lyrics wise…
And I also LOVE Duran Duran like, a lot…
But. They are probably the band with the most lyrics that I cannot make heads or tails of. Just… I got nothing. Not all of the songs, mind you, but a lot of them. The Reflex? Like, what?
Freaking Train.
Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you
Even when I know you’re wrong?
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance
Five-hour phone conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had, and me?
Huh?
Yep, The Reflex, what the hell is it about? …a random stream of consciousness…! Personally, I think it’s about adolescent sex.
I understand the intention. I just don’t like the way it’s phrased. Has always sounded super-entitled to me. Maybe entitled isn’t the right word, but it just never sat well with me in conext with with song. Anyway….
I absolutely thought the song was about suicide. Not that I ever analyzed it very hard, but that was the feeling that I’ve always had…
The most recent for me is “Rain” by SWV. It’s a beautiful sounding song, that I was just reacquainted with as I learned of Jaco Pastorius and his “Portrait of Tracy” which “Rain” incorporates. When you pay attention to the lyrics as an adult it sounds more, well… any one would assume that R. Kelly wrote it.
Several bands I like, but two in particular, often use a Burroughs/Ginsberg style cut-up technique and so the lyrics end up really evocative but making no sense on a casual read.
And then there’s Ringo Starr and this creepy thing with jailbait Carrie Fisher:
I still can’t believe anyone involved thought that one was a good plan
came here for des’ree’s ‘life’, amazingly havent seen it yet so here goes…..
I don’t want to see a ghost
It’s a sight that I fear most
I’d rather have a piece of toast
some beauties on here so far, top thread 
I’m pretty sure Jerry Seinfeld can relate to that first one.
Bad lyric of the day (great song though, heckuva groove) :
If I had a couple million you might find me dead
Wearing gold and platinum in my coffin bed
Least I died with bread.
Must be “Hit ’Em Up” by 2Pac. I played it a lot when I had a playlist with all kinds of rap songs, to understand this genre better. I always had to LOL about this one and thought, “yeah, get a life, drama queen!”
It’s such a self centered song where he is basically whining about nothing, stirring a childish conflict … about nothing (especially considering where it all ended up).
In the end, 2Pac was just a singer, just like John Denver or Conway Twitty - why all that fuzz?
I liked 2Pac a lot more before I listened to his lyrics.
I ain’t got (suckass) no mothafuckin’ friends
That’s why I fucked yo’ bitch, you fat mothafucka
(Take money) Westside, Bad Boy killas
(Take money) (you know) you know who the realest is, [n-word]s
(Take money) we bring it too
That’s aight, haha (take money)
Haha
First off, fuck yo’ bitch and the clique you claim
Westside, when we ride, come equipped with game
You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys, [n-word]s fucked for life
Plus, Puffy tryna see me, weak hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior MAFIA some mark-ass bitches
We keep on comin’ while we runnin’ for your jewels
Steady gunnin’, keep on bustin’ at them fools, you know the rules
Lil’ Caesar, go ask your homie how I’ll leave ya
Cut your young-ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
Lil’ Kim, don’t fuck around with real G’s
Quick to snatch yo’ ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace
I’ll let them [n-word]s know it’s on for life
Don’t let the Westside ride tonight (hahaha)
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and get yo’ caps peeled
You know, see
Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh
Who shot me? But you punks didn’t finish
Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
[n-word], I hit 'em up
Check this out (take money)
You motherfuckers know what time it is
I don’t even know why I’m on this track (take money)
Y’all [n-word]s ain’t even on my level
I’ma let my lil’ homies ride on you bitch-made ass (take money)
Bad Boy bitches (ayy, ayy, ayyo, hold the fuck up) (take money)
Feel it
Get out the way, yo, get out the way, yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little Mu’, pass the MAC and let me hit him in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right for settin’ traps
Little accident murderer and I ain’t never heard of ya
Poisonous gats attack when I’m servin’ ya
Spank ya, shank ya whole style when I gank
Guard your rank ‘cause I’ma slam your ass in the paint
Puffy weaker than the fuckin’ block I’m runnin’ through, [n-word]
And I’m smokin’ Junior MAFIA in front of you, [n-word]
With the ready power tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout petty sour, I push packages every hour, I hit 'em up
Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh
Who shot me? But you punks didn’t finish
Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
[n-word], we hit 'em up
Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel
This ain’t no freestyle battle, all you [n-word]s gettin’ killed with your mouths open
Tryna come up off of me, you in the clouds hopin’
Smokin’ dope, it’s like a Sherm high, [n-word]s think they learned to fly
But they burn, mothafucka, you deserve to die
Talkin’ about you gettin’ money, but it’s funny to me
All you [n-word]s livin’ bummy while you fuckin’ with me
I’m a self-made millionaire
Thug livin’, out of prison, pistols in the air (haha)
Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house?
Now it’s all about Versace, you copied my style
Five shots couldn’t drop me, I took it and smiled
Now I’m back to set the record straight
With my AK, I’m still the thug that you love to hate
Mothafucka, I hit 'em up
I’m from N-E-W Jers’ where plenty of murders occurs
No points or commas, we bring the drama to all you herbs
Now go check the scenario
Little Cease, I’ll bring you fake G’s to your knees, coppin’ pleas in de Janeiro
Little Kim, is you coked up or doped up?
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up, what the fuck? Is you stupid?
I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click lootin’, shootin’ and pollutin’ your block
With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot
Outlaw MAFIA clique movin’ up another notch
And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
All your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and locked
You’s a beat biter, a Pac style taker
I’ll tell you to your face, you ain’t shit but a faker
Softer than Alizé with a chaser
‘Bout to get murdered for the paper
EDI Mean approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with Lil’ Caesar in a choke, gun totin’ smoke
We ain’t no motherfuckin’ joke, Thug Life, [n-word]s better be knowin’
We approachin’ in the wide open, gun smokin’
No need for hopin’, it’s a battle lost
I got ‘em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin’ off
[n-word], I hit 'em up
Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run, hahaha
They don’t wanna see us (take money)
Whole Junior MAFIA clique dressin’ up tryna be us (take money)
How the fuck they gonna be the mob when we always on our job? (Take money)
We millionaires
Killin’ ain’t fair, but somebody gotta do it (take money)
Oh, yeah, Mobb Deep, huh (take money)
You wanna fuck with us?
You little young-ass mothafuckas (take money)
Don’t one of you [n-word]s got sickle-cell or somethin’? (Take money)
You’re fuckin’ with me, [n-word], you fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack (take money)
You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you [n-word]s from New York that wanna bring it, bring it
But we ain’t singin’, we bringin’ drama
Fuck you and yo’ motherfuckin’ mama
We gon’ kill all you motherfuckers
Now, when I came out, I told you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin’ opinion
Well, this is how we gonna do this
Fuck Mobb Deep, fuck Biggie
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfuckin’ crew
And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too
Chino XL, fuck you too
All you motherfuckers, fuck you too
(Take money, take money)
All of y’all motherfuckers, fuck you, die slow, motherfucker
My 44 make sho’ all y’all kids don’t grow
You motherfuckers can’t be us or see us
We motherfuckin’ Thug Life ridas, Westside till we die
Out here in California, [n-word], we warned ya we’ll bomb on you motherfuckers
We do our job, you think you mob? [n-word], we the motherfuckin’ mob
Ain’t nothin’ but killas and the real [n-word]s, all you motherfuckers feel us
Our shit goes triple and 4-quadruple (take money)
You [n-word]s laugh 'cause our staff got guns under they motherfuckas belts
You know how it is: When we drop records, they felt
You [n-word]s can’t feel it, we the realest
Fuck 'em, we Bad Boy killas
Oh, also: ALL lyrics by Taylor Swift
Worst lyrics I’ve heard? Perhaps something from Dread Zeppelin.
…or perhaps they belong in the “worse adaptations” thread.
Compilation of about a dozen comedians that fit into the gist of this thread:
“Que te la pongo” is Spanish, not Greek.
