Fix what’s wrong, but don’t rewrite what the artist wrote. Stick to the official released version — album booklet, label site, verified lyric video, etc. If you’re guessing, pause and double-check.
Respect the structure
Songs have rhythm. Pages do too. Leave line breaks where they belong. Don’t smash things together or add extra empty space just for looks.
Punctuation counts (but vibe-editing doesn’t)
Correct typos? Yes. Re-punctuating a whole verse because it ‘looks better’? Probably not. Keep capitalization and punctuation close to the official source.
Don’t mix versions
If you’re editing the explicit version, keep it explicit. If it’s the clean version, keep it clean. No mashups.
Let the lyrics be lyrics
This isn’t the place for interpretations, memories, stories, or trivia — that’s what comments are for. Keep metadata, translations, and bracketed stage directions out unless they’re officially part of the song.
Edit lightly
If two lines are wrong… fix the two lines. No need to bulldoze the whole page. Think ‘surgical,’ not ‘remix.’
When in doubt, ask the crowd
Not sure what they’re singing in that fuzzy bridge? Drop a question in the comments and let the music nerds swarm. Someone always knows.
Epic, epic track. The opening guitar notes seem to go on forever, conjuring an image of a vast, empty scrubland. Eventually the music quietens down to allow the first words to come in…
The song is a cold warning, perhaps whispered from father to newborn child, of the harsh ways of the world that await. That cruelty lies a the heart of humanity.
While some form of protection may be offered while still under parental control, when the time comes to fly the nest, to stand on ones own feet, the mocking from others lost in fear and hatred will begin. Soon they will do it to your face. Eventually they will strip you off your possessions and mutilate you.
The brief foretelling of existential bleakness, without reason, explanation or consequence, reminiscent of Kafka's The Trial.
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Epic, epic track. The opening guitar notes seem to go on forever, conjuring an image of a vast, empty scrubland. Eventually the music quietens down to allow the first words to come in…
The song is a cold warning, perhaps whispered from father to newborn child, of the harsh ways of the world that await. That cruelty lies a the heart of humanity.
While some form of protection may be offered while still under parental control, when the time comes to fly the nest, to stand on ones own feet, the mocking from others lost in fear and hatred will begin. Soon they will do it to your face. Eventually they will strip you off your possessions and mutilate you.
The brief foretelling of existential bleakness, without reason, explanation or consequence, reminiscent of Kafka's The Trial.