[Intro: Light fingerpicked acoustic guitar with a slide dobro flourish] [Musical Direction: Lazy island shuffle groove with warm harmonica undertone] [Verse] I met a man down by the laundromat, Told me gravity ain’t real, just a racket and a trap. Said the moon is a hologram, parked up in the sky, And chemtrails are proof that aliens fly. But I scratched my head, tried to play along, While his logic wandered off like a half-written song. And I said kindly, as I reached for my drink: "Buddy, I believe you've had more beer than you think." [Chorus] 'Cause the logic doesn’t lead to their conclusion, Their conclusion leads to their logic—it's a delusion. I’ve seen some whacky theories rollin’ through my feed, Makes you think they don’t know science, but they sure believe what they read. It’s a fact, Jack—chemtrails ain’t attack, It’s just airplanes leavin' vapor in their track.. [Verse] My cousin thinks the Earth is shaped like a pie, With whipped cream oceans and a lemon meringue sky. She says the lizard people run the DMV, And JFK Jr. runs a juice bar in Tennessee. I smile and nod ‘cause I love her dear, But I won’t let her drive when she’s that unclear. She asked, “Don’t you feel the vibes of the fifth dimension?” I said, “I feel the vibes, but not the comprehension.” [Chorus] 'Cause the logic doesn’t lead to their conclusion, Their conclusion leads to their logic—it’s confusion. I’ve seen some tinfoil prophets on late-night TV, Claimin’ fluoride’s the reason we can’t plant a money tree. It’s a fact, Jack—chemtrails ain’t an act, It’s just airplanes leavin' vapor in their track. [Bridge: Harmonica solo over steel-string rhythm] [Musical Direction: Tempo slows slightly with a soft mandolin accent] Maybe it’s comfort in the crazy, Or just boredom gone too far... But I miss the days when the wildest thing Was who left the door open on Grandpa’s car. [Chorus] 'Cause the logic doesn’t lead to their conclusion, Their conclusion leads to their logic—it's illusion. I’ve heard that birds ain’t real and clouds are drones, Yet they never question why their dog eats bones. It’s a fact, Jack—science don’t crack, From Newton to NASA, we’ve got the knack. [Outro: Gentle guitar fading with faint laughter and clinking bottles]
