Pop – music for optimistics,
Music for singing at two ayem.
Vinyl that wears its gist on its sleeve,
And makes us believe in them each times we play them.
Sure, we may attempt to rebel,
Claiming to be serious nerds,
But when we hear its tempo swell,
We find we still know all the words.
Cos pop music is just so poppy,
Music for yelling “There’s no-one can stop me !”
It’s music for happiness,
Music for crying to,
Brings out our best when it’s not even trying to.
Pop – music for earworm farmers,
Music for dancing the daily commute.
It pierces our armour, it captures our cortex,
Deep down in the vortex and never be mute.
Our parent, they just don’t get it,
Just as their folks just didn’t get our parents in turn,
And we likewise just can credit
What turns-on our kids these days – but no cause for concern.
So keep the upbeat up, we’ve learned,
For ballads and minor keys have to be earned.
Some say it’s artifice,
Some say it’s cash –
A flash in the pan, they insist – but oh, what a flash !