[INTRO — CONVERSATION] “AI music isn’t real music.” … Okay. But I’m not trying to make The next fucking Thriller. I’m trying to make the stupid song We’ve been singing about our friend For six years. … Wait. Actually— [BEAT STARTS] We already do this. [VERSE 1] We already change the words When somebody’s name fits. Already ruin famous songs With some dumb inside shit. Already got a melody We sing when that one friend walks in. Already hear a certain track And say, “Bro— This is literally him.” We make fake theme songs. Drunk songs. Road-trip hooks. Little chants that somehow last Longer than the joke. None of us can produce. Nobody knows the chords. So they live for thirty seconds— Then they’re gone. [PRE] But now— Hold on. What if they’re not? [CHORUS] Put it in a song. Put it in a song. That stupid little thing we do? Put it in a song. Tonight. This trip. That joke. Your name. That story nobody else would get— Put it in a song. Maybe that’s all this is. Something we already did— Now we get to keep it. [VERSE 2] Your friend’s trying to bail tonight? Make the anthem. “GET YOUR ASS OUTSIDE.” Thirty minutes later Everybody knows the chorus. Standing in line at Disneyland? Fuck it. Who gets a theme song? Make one about the churro. Make one roasting everybody. Make one way too fucking serious About surviving Space Mountain. Birthday? There’s your single. Bachelor trip? EP. Somebody says something So unbelievably stupid That we know we’re gonna quote it For the next ten years? [BEAT CUT] Track four. [DROP] PUT IT IN A SONG. [VERSE 3 — IDEA STARTS EXPANDING] Okay. But then— What about the bigger shit? The trip everybody talks about Years after it ends? What if every year Gets its own sound? Who’s there. What we’re listening to. Who we’re becoming. What we’re dreaming about. What we’re scared of. The joke that won’t die. The friend who finally came. The one thing somebody said at sunrise That nobody forgot. Wait. That’s not a gimmick anymore. That’s a scrapbook. Except— You can dance to it. [CHORUS — CHANGES] Put it in a song. Put it in a song. All the shit the camera missed— Put it in a song. The mood. The hope. The names. The night. The way we were Before our lives changed— Put it in a song. Maybe that’s all this is. Taking something that would’ve passed And giving it somewhere to live. [BREAK — QUIET] Because pictures are weird. You look at one And remember what happened. But music— Music does something else. Three seconds… And you’re fucking there. So imagine if the song Actually knew where “there” was. [BUILD — THE DREAM] Lightning gets an album. Wedding gets an album. Friends get an album. Family gets an album. The dumb years. The good years. The fucking disaster years. The year everybody fell in love. The year nobody knew what they were doing. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. And every one sounds different Because we were different. Oh shit. Imagine playing them back. [FINAL CHORUS] Put it in a song. Put it in a song. If it makes us fucking laugh— Put it in a song. If it makes somebody cry— Put it in a song. If nobody else on Earth Would understand a fucking word— Even better. Put it in a song. Make the memory sing. Make the joke survive. Make something for the people Who were actually there that night. [OUTRO — BACK TO CONVERSATION] So yeah. Maybe it’s AI music. Maybe it’s fake. Maybe it’s whatever the fuck You wanna call it. But ten years from now If four notes play And all my friends go— “OH MY FUCKING GOD.” … I don’t think I’m gonna care What we called it. [PAUSE] Anyway— What should we make one about? [OTHER VOICE] … The churro. [BEAT RETURNS] Fuck yeah. The churro.
