Good Lyric

Good lyrics are hard to come by these days. Jibberish penned to fit into formulaic music abound. According to Theologian Ben Myers and wife, the worst first lines goes to Katie Perry's 'Firework'. Here's how it goes:

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind,
Wanting to start again?

To wikipedia, the song is 'a self-empowerment anthem with inspirational lyrics', but according to Myers, 'Katy Perry has achieved something that I never would have dreamed possible. She has managed to vulgarise that-than-which-nothing-more-vulgar-can-be-conceived: the plastic bag...Brothers and sisters, until I heard those lines I was seriously tempted to believe in universal salvation. But I have turned aside from my errors: nobody who writes like that will inherit the kingdom of heaven'.

It is no doubt difficult to write good lyrics, forget about making the lines to rhyme. But ooooooonce in a while, you come across some lyric that make you go, 'hey, that's the type of song I want to write'. The song lyric below is one of those. Not that I fully understand what it says, but it sure is interesting because of the style and the ambiguity of its meaning, that make one to imagine. Another attraction is that the music isn't one of Imbruglia's best. So, what gets one hooked to the song is not the music but the lyric. Now that's something!!

Butterflies: Natalie Imbruglia

VERSE
Swallow purple terror candy
Don't forget to breathe
Sickened by the wanting
And drowning from the need
This dichromatic vision
Of one who does not care
To sipping cocktail sedatives
Two months to hide somewhere

CHORUS
Butterflies, Butterflies
Cut the stomach out and hand it over
Butterflies, Butterflies
My heart will be the bridge that-
you walk over

VERSE
The wolf has caught the chicken
And now I feel unsteady
Emotions on the blink again
So kick me when you're ready
Here lies a violet coffin
The death of my control
Along with all my skeletons
They put them in the hole

VERSE
Sickened by the notion
I give myself again
Choking on the bullet, the gun-
thats found a friend
So raise your glass to sorrow
And drink to all the pain
Tie a silver ribbon around
The pieces that remain

CHORUS
Butterflies, Butterflies
Cut the stomach out and hand it over
Butterflies, Butterflies
My heart will be the bridge that-
you walk over