Yesterday on Twitter we asked you for your favourite song lyrics of 2012 – under #fave2012lyrics – and you came back with enough choices to fill a Bob Dylan album. Wordsmiths Spector, Jake Bugg and Alt-J figure strongly, but only one vote for ‘Gangnam Style’. How soon we forget.
Anyway, we’ve sifted through and chosen a provisional top 20 below, but we’d like you to keep on thinking. Choose your favourite lyric of the year, explain why it’s so damn good, and you could find your choice printed in the magazine.
I had my fortune told and it said I would meet somebody with green eyes/ Yours are blue
I could make an observation, if you want the voice of a generation but I’m too self-absorbed to give it clout
I’m not laughing, you’re not joking/ I’m not dead I only dress that way
Maybe in our wildest moments we could be the greatest/ Maybe in our wildest moments we could be the worst of all
Force fed, forced meds, ’til I drop dead
Abusive, a stranger in bed/ Elusive, forget everything you said
Unfair we’re not somewhere misbehaving for days/ Great escape, lost track of time and space
But I saw her love gauge running low/ I tried to fill but it overflowed
Don’t just dream in your sleep/ It’s just lazy
Grow some balls and speak your mind/ You think you’re cool, like a porcupine!
But when you sober up it’s always, ‘Why the fuck are you still listening to Mark E Smith?’
And that Eureka moment hits you like a cop car/ And you wake up just head and shoulders in a glass jar
Money is the anthem of success so before we go out, what’s your address?
Then your lipstick, Cleopatra/ Then your six inch heels catch her
There’s no such thing as broken Britain/ We’re just bloody broke in Britain
Heard he was your rock/ Does that make me your hard place?
An automated song and the whole world gone/ Fallen under the spell of the distance between us when we communicate
I drink to remember, I smoke to forget/ Some things to be proud of, some stuff to regret
If someone believed me/ They would be as in love with you as I am
Triangles are my favourite shape/ Three points where two lines meet
We’ve waxed lyrical. It’s over to you.
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