Where is the Love?

I love listening to music. Who doesn't. The melody soothes my very soul. Even trash rock, if they still call it that by the way, suits my mood when I want to feel destructive and kick some asses. I don't think I could be bitchy to my nurses if I don't listen to Foo Fighters first, for instance. Why I need to be bitchy to my nurses is another story. It's the job description of a boss. I'm not at the clinic to be loved. I'm there to get the job done. Back to the music, I can't say the same about the lyrics though. Let me give you an example;


Male:
"It's funny how a man only thinks about the...
You got a real big heart, but I'm looking your...
You got real big brains, but I'm looking at your...
Girl, there ain't no pain in me looking at your...

[PussyCatDolls]
I don't give a...
Keep looking at my...
'Cause it don't mean a thing if you're looking at my...
I'm a do my thing while you're playing with your...
Ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha "

I mean, what the heck happened to the lyrics that involves the sun shining when you pass by, how you brighten the day with your smile, you make my heart swell, you feel like heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much???

Don't people believe in simple love anymore? Is sex the new perimeter to measuring love?
It doesn't help that the beats are catchy and they go on and on, imbeded in your brain, until you want to sing it. But oh the lyrics!!!

I have this bad habit of talking to myself without realizing that I do that. No darling, schizophrenia is when you hear voices and respond to them. No. I don't hear voices, nice try. And I sing without realizing I sing too. I remember getting into an elevator one day and caught sight of this cute guy giving me a funny gaze,more like a quarter of a smile of sort. I thought for 2 seconds that I may have forgotten to zip my pants,... again, up until I realized half way out of the elevator that I sang the -"I'm a do my thing while you're playing with your... Ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha" bit, out loud.

Sigh...the tragedy of modern music. Brilliant and catchy tune, bad literature.