Set Nineteen to Get Nineteen

[Intro] My mind catches patterns before the kettle can sing, Then one small curly mark derails everything. [Verse 1] I spot the hidden structure in a sky I’ve never charted, But an apostrophe can leave the whole investigation started. Show me sheet music: I’ll sort the shapes by size, A tidy little landscape where the notes become designs. The cooker’s shaded circles? I must study every clue; The ladies’ sign’s a modern work—perhaps a sail, perhaps a shoe. I’ll build a theory of the stars, their balance, pull, and art— Then lose the plot at line three of “From here, turn left and start.” [Chorus] It’s go, go, go, then a fence across the floor, A mind that finds the pattern, then can’t find the door. I’ll reason through the cosmos, make a grand design— But set nineteen to get nineteen. Please be kind. [Verse 2] Give me directions past two lines, my map begins to fray; Put pubs and shops along the route, I’ll find my way all day. Left and right are tricky—hold on, I know the test: Make an L with my left hand; the other sorts the rest. Spelling and languages? I’ll leave them to the brave. A bathroom sign’s abstract art; what meaning should I save? I read a person through their socks, their woolly, careful seams, Yet symbols on a cooker hob can scramble all my schemes. [Chorus] It’s go, go, go, then a fence across the floor, A mind that finds the pattern, then can’t find the door. I’ll reason through the cosmos, make a grand design— But set nineteen to get nineteen. Please be kind. [Bridge] I know your weather by your sleeves, the pause before you speak, I catch the small unsaid things that others might not seek. My thoughts race on; the world can feel like gates that won’t give way, So I pour another cup of logic, and negotiate the day. The thermostat and I agree, after some debate: “Nineteen means nineteen. That’s the setting. That’s the date.” [Verse 3] I can’t recite the planets in their proper ordered line, But see their balance working, each in relation to the next in time. And maybe gravity and beauty share a family tree— A thought that took one second, then a whole philosophy. I can speak a concert hall; I hope this song gets through: The engine says “go, go, go,” while fences say “not you.” Still, I can turn a snag into a system I can use, And laugh when all my grand designs get tangled with the shoes. [Final Chorus] It’s go, go, go, but I can find another door, A mind that sees the pattern and keeps asking something more. I’ll read the human weather, make a grand design— Set nineteen to get nineteen. We’ll be doing fine. [Outro] Check the left hand, find the pub, the shop, the sign— And set nineteen to get nineteen! Which knob was mine? [Final comedic crash]