I'm told to know things

To be a lawyer or a teacher

So I can buy fancy rings

And find someone that's a keeper

 

We skim the surface 

But never go deeper

The bland stares make me nervous

They seem like unbelievers

 

I'm not particularly good at math

I don't know much about science

I'm going down the harmonic path

But that's defined as defiance

 

But they only care about numbers and theories

They're the prison guards 

In the city of gypsies and hippies

Outlawing the strumming of guitars

 

We have the ability

To show much more 

Just put the emphasis 

On what we were made for

 

Some like those numbers and immaculate theories

But some like the way music sounded in the fifties

Open your minds to what everyone loves

And knowledge will come through the city like a flood