It Doesn't Mean A Thing - The Airborne Toxic Event

Well I never knew my mother, but I can’t say it was so bad

She was still a girl of seventeen the night she met my dad

He was just six months out of Chino, trying his hardest to stay clean

And they’d sing, and they’d sing, and they’d sing

Like doves sleeping with broken wings

In a bed fit for a king

«It didn’t mean a thing»

It was a shotgun-forced wedding, but they forgot to bring the guns

They were too busy counting promises to the children not yet born

No one could afford the ride, they just hitched up the 101

But they’d sing, and they’d sing, and they’d sing

Like doves dancing with broken wings

With a view fit for a king

«It didn’t mean a thing»

There was a loneliness they would confess

Like the world had gone bad, I guess

So they’d hold hands looking into the eyes of god

And they’d say, «Tell me why you’d hide from us?

Why you’d fill the world with wickedness?

Why’d you spare us from your grace, but not the rod?»

Now my dad says, «Fuck the details, just keep your head down hard

You got to find yourself alone before you’ll find the eyes of God

You may be broke and scared and mad and tear at the flesh of your heart-strings

But you were born to be a peasant not a king

So just stop acting like you’re running from something

You’re gonna leave the way you came without a thing

With your heart tied your mind tied to a string

You just sing and you sing and you sing:

'It doesn’t mean a thing…'»