Lyrical: Complexity Analysis of Pop Songs

Original Lyrics	Munged Lyrics
The old folks don't talk much They talk so slowly when they do They are rich they are poor Their illusions are gone They share one heart for two Their homes all smell of time Of old pho ... [bulk of lyrics omitted for copyright reasons]	The old folks don't torque much They torque sew slowly when they do They are rich they are poor There illusions are gone They share won hart fore too There homes awl smell of thyme Of old photographs And an old fashioned song Though yew may live inn town Yew live sew fah aweigh When you've lived to long Have they laughed to much Do there dry voices crack Talking of things gone buy Have they cried to much A tier awe too still always seems Too cloud the i They tremble as they watch the old silver clock When day is threw Tic tock owe sew sloe It says yes it says know It says Eye weight fore yew The old folks dream know moor There books have gone too sleep The piano's out of tune The little cat is dead And know moor do they sing on a Sunday afternoon The old folks move know moor There whirled become too small There bodies feel like led They mite look out a window Awe else sit it a chair Awe else they stay inn bed And if they still go out Arm inn arm, arm inn arm Inn the mourning chill It's too have a good cry Too say there last goodbye Too won whose older still And then they go home Too the old silver clock When day is threw Tic tock sew sew sloe It says yes it says know It says Eye weight fore yew The old folks never dye They just put down there heads And go too sleep won day They will hold each others hands Like children inn the dark Butt won will get lost anyway And the other will remain Just sitting inn a rheum Witch makes know sound It doesn't matter now The song has died aweigh And echo's awl around Yule sea them as they walk Threw the s

Original Lyrics

Munged Lyrics

The old folks don't talk much
They talk so slowly when they do
They are rich they are poor
Their illusions are gone
They share one heart for two

Their homes all smell of time
Of old pho
...
[bulk of lyrics omitted for copyright reasons]

The old folks don't torque much
They torque sew slowly when they do
They are rich they are poor
There illusions are gone
They share won hart fore too

There homes awl smell of thyme
Of old photographs
And an old fashioned song
Though yew may live inn town
Yew live sew fah aweigh
When you've lived to long

Have they laughed to much
Do there dry voices crack
Talking of things gone buy
Have they cried to much
A tier awe too still always seems
Too cloud the i

They tremble as they watch the old silver clock
When day is threw
Tic tock owe sew sloe
It says yes it says know
It says Eye weight fore yew

The old folks dream know moor
There books have gone too sleep
The piano's out of tune
The little cat is dead
And know moor do they sing on a Sunday afternoon

The old folks move know moor
There whirled become too small
There bodies feel like led
They mite look out a window
Awe else sit it a chair
Awe else they stay inn bed

And if they still go out
Arm inn arm, arm inn arm
Inn the mourning chill
It's too have a good cry
Too say there last goodbye
Too won whose older still
And then they go home
Too the old silver clock
When day is threw
Tic tock sew sew sloe
It says yes it says know
It says Eye weight fore yew

The old folks never dye
They just put down there heads
And go too sleep won day
They will hold each others hands
Like children inn the dark
Butt won will get lost anyway
And the other will remain
Just sitting inn a rheum
Witch makes know sound
It doesn't matter now
The song has died aweigh
And echo's awl around

Yule sea them as they walk
Threw the s

Old Folks

John Denver