Feelings are complex and scary, and they’re just so hard to describe sometimes. And even if we’re not feeling anything particularly poignant, we can have the kind of overwhelming feeling of us-ness that, if we didn’t have handy lyricists at our disposal, we would never be able to express. That feeling that leaves us wanting to scream at the top of our lungs for a reason we can’t quite articulate — look no further than your friendly neighborhood musicians to give you the perfect status for that.
I need you so much closer.
As with most Death Cab lyrics, Transatlanticism is perfect for expressing your frustration with your long-distance relationship. Whether you’re physically on the other side of the country from each other, or you just feel this strange separation and awkward silence when you sit across from each other at Red Lobster, Death Cab knows how to put that distance into words. Consider Death Cab and its longing lyrics the “Hey There Delilah” for the grad-school set.
And I can get caught in the rain
Can I get your lips to speak my name?
The Ready Set, with this “Skinny guy with absurd hair and deep-V T-shirt” masterpiece, describes the sentiment that every 16-year-old girl is legally required to feel. “Love Like Woe” is just one anthem of an entire class of singer/ songwriters(?) — okay, just singer/criers (including Paramore, Metro Station, Never Shout Never, etc.) — that were founded purely to provide angsty teens a way to put their terrifying emotions into words. Also, as a grown-ass adult, you may occasionally find yourself listening to it as you hate everything you stand for.
Dreaming ’bout the day when you wake up and find
That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.
Taylor Swift was made in some kind of terrifying basement experiment, in which faceless record executives mixed together three CMAs, crossover appeal, two promise rings, an acoustic guitar, and a southern accent that only shows up half the time. All of her lyrics are literally perfect for any and all situations in which you have feelings for someone that are in any way unrequited. Swift is actually contractually obligated to not find happiness so she can keep providing society with “Why doesn’t he like me back?” odes.
Sippin on Coke and rum
I’m like ‘So what, I’m drunk’
It’s the freakin weekend, baby
I’m about to have me some fun
You are a young white girl that would like to let everyone know you’re about to have a good time tonight and in T-minus five hours you will be blackout drunk and, likely, crying. R. Kelly is a messenger from God, blessing us all with hyper-articulate ways to express just how drunk we’re planning on getting (unimaginably) and just how many booties are going to be popping (several).
I’m bossy, I’m the bitch y’all love to hate
I’m the chick that’s raising stakes
I told Young Stunna he should switch the beat
I’m back with an 808 cause I’m bossy
You’re feeling like New York from Flavor of Love and you want to let everyone in your social network know you’re the HBIC. You’ll let Kelis do the talking for you.
I’m feeling good tonight
Finally doing me and it feels so right, oh
Time to do the things I like
Going to the club and it feels alright, oh.
Not only did you just dump your significant other (after what was likely an arduous and entirely unpleasant final few months of togetherness), you give absolutely zero f-cks about whether or not they feel alone/sad — you’re telling the whole world how much you’re enjoying your new singledom with the help of Jason Derulo. In fact, let’s be honest, you probably want that ex to be just a little bit jealous about what you’re doing tonight. You’re doing you, and you don’t care who knows (but you kind of do), essentially.
Before you met me, I was alright but things were kind of heavy
You brought me to life, now every February, you’ll be my valentine. (Katy Perry)
You are in a new relationship and it is SO AWESOME YOU HAVE NO IDEA NOTHING WILL EVER BE THIS GOOD, NOT EVER EVER EVER WE ARE THE REAL THING YOU GUYS. (Two months later, see Jason Derulo lyrics.)
Une gueule de bois
A bu ma bière
Dans un grand verre
En caoutchouc (Plastic Bertrand)
You dropped out of French I and don’t speak a word, but damn if these lyrics don’t look super, super cool.