Afrobeats Lyrics Generator

Generate original Afrobeats lyrics in seconds. Written so that written for the pocket rather than for the page.

Melodic, percussive, and written for the pocket rather than the page.

Emotional arc up to 3, in order

Everything it writes is original. It will not reproduce the words of an existing song.

The hook opens the song and repeats

Afrobeats usually leads with the hook and returns to it far more often than a Western pop structure would. Write it first and keep it short, because it is going to carry most of the running time.

A hook here can be a handful of words. Expanding it to fill a conventional eight bars usually weakens it.

Rhythm decides the words

The syllable pattern has to sit in the pocket, which means a line that reads well but scans badly is simply wrong. This is the genre where the sound of a phrase outranks its meaning most often.

Percussive repetition of a single word is a legitimate element rather than filler. It functions as part of the rhythm section.

Code-switching is idiomatic

Phrases from more than one language inside a single verse are normal and expected. The caution is practical: only write in a language you can write well, because a badly used phrase is more obvious here than anywhere.

This generator writes in English unless you ask otherwise, and it will not fake fluency it does not have.

Unembarrassed subjects

Celebration, desire and ambition, stated plainly. The genre does not apologise for any of them and writing that hedges sounds out of place.

That directness is also why the specificity matters: a boast about something particular lands, a general one evaporates.

30 example afrobeats songs

Every one of these was written by this generator from a one-line brief, then kept. They are here so you can see what it actually produces before you type anything.

The 5:47 to Nowhere

Written from: a train you missed on purpose

Ticket stub still in my pocket Folding it to make it smaller The platform’s empty after midnight Wind takes down the last of summer I could’ve chased it down the tracks Heard the whistle bend the rafters But the rails got tangled up my throat

Five forty-seven left the station No one waving, no one waiting Five forty-seven left without me Five forty-seven left the station No one waving, no one waiting Five forty-seven left without me Five forty-seven left the station No one waving, no one waiting Five forty-seven left without me

Mama says I always run toward What’s flashing but never backing down This time I leaned into the quiet Let the doors close with no sound No brave last words, no final kisses Just the echo of my own name dying On the lips of the wrong direction

The conductor didn’t even shout Couldn’t tell you why I stayed Maybe the wrong train carries you To the right place anyway Maybe the tracks got tired of running Maybe I did too

Now the 5:47’s just a number Buried in the back of the drawer But the rails hum when the wind is right Something close to a home I never boarded

Garage Sunrise

Written from: clearing out a garage

Empty shelves whisper in the dim morning light A single shoe sits like a lone echo on the floor Dust settles on a forgotten guitar case, silent as a sigh The calendar hangs crooked, its pages unturned, waiting I sit on a broken stool, the world outside a distant drum

Spin the wheels, feel the sunrise, we clear the space Spin the wheels, feel the sunrise, we clear the space

Sun filters through the cracked window, painting gold on old boxes My hands find a photo, a laugh caught in a frame, warm as tea A jar of mango jam rolls out, scent rising like a promise We stack the chairs, each clink a small celebration, heart expanding The garage breathes, and with each cleared corner, gratitude rises

Bam‑bam, pulse of the floor, we move, we move Sauti ya moto, we dance with the dust, we move

Spin the wheels, feel the sunrise, we clear the space Spin the wheels, feel the sunrise, we clear the space

First Light Pay

Written from: the first paycheque

Midnight walk with his name on the ticket, every step hums the generosity of the electric. Landlord’s note stuck to the milk carton, I peel it slow, then laugh—nothing’s written.

Paperweight in my pocket, close enough to feel it breathe. Right there in my jacket, proof I feed myself. Paperweight in my pocket, close enough to feel it breathe. Right there in my jacket, proof I feed myself. Paperweight in my pocket, close enough to feel it breathe. Right there in my jacket, proof I feed myself.

First table’s tips still clinging to my nails, half a diner hums hymns to the coffee machine. The guy three stools down bets ten bucks I’ll last, I pocket the bet like it’s already mine.

Sitting on the curb at three AM, no ride, no map, just that rustling in my fist— the world still spins if I’m breathing, so I breathe.

Paperweight in my pocket, close enough to dream it sings. Right there in my jacket, proof I eat the future.

Walls Between

Written from: a neighbour you never spoke to

Summer evenings, I see you through the blinds Watering your plants, with a gentle mind I've lived beside you, for so many years Never shared a word, through all the laughter and tears

But in the silence, I find a peaceful place Where the world outside, doesn't intrude on my space

Autumn leaves fall, and the winds they do howl I hear you playing, a melancholy soul Your music seeps, into my quiet nights And I'm reminded, of the beauty in our separate lives

Maybe someday, our paths will collide And we'll find a connection, we never knew we'd find Until then, I'll appreciate the wall That stands between us, and the stories it recalls

Now when I see you, through the windowpane I feel a sense of gratitude, for the silence we maintain It's a reminder, that solitude can be a gift And in the stillness, I've found a sense of peaceful lift.

Wooden Floor Lullaby

Written from: sleeping in a house that is being sold

Your overcoat still loops on the chair spring I trace the scuff where we dragged the TV Through the hallway mirror our whole springtime Shrunk to one flicker, one afterimage

One last night on the wooden floor now Just the rain and the creak in the hall now Wrap me up in the sheets we shook out Before the strangers walk through the door out One last night on the wooden floor now Just the rain and the creek in the hall now Wrap me up in the sheets we shook out Before the strangers walk through the door out One last night on the wooden floor now Just the rain and the creak in the hall now Wrap me up in the sheets we shook out Before the strangers walk through the door out

Morning light slides through the blind dust Paints the boxes like old gold leaf I ought to pack, but I don’t want to Let the dust keep its fleeting grief

Thank you for the weight of June in this room Thank you for every borrowed coat I borrowed you Thank you for teaching the walls to hold a tune Now the hollow sounds empty – but I’m full

One last night on the wooden floor now Heat the last coal on the grate I know Wrap me up in the sheets we shook out The way the house lets me go

The Last Rep

Written from: the coach who never gave up on you

January ice on the field My cleats were cracked in two Your breath was cloud in the quiet Your clipboard never closed

Oh, coach, you ran the drills While the rest walked home Oh, coach, you called my name When the lights went cold Oh, coach, you ran the drills While the rest walked home Oh, coach, you called my name When the lights went cold Oh, coach, you ran the drills While the rest walked home Oh, coach, you called my name When the lights went cold

Third-string jersey, number nine You said, “Kid, we’ve just begun” Your whistle stayed in your teeth While the stars all gave up one by one

Now the trophy gleams and the banners hang But I still hear your voice down the empty stands Not one cheer I earned without your stubborn hands

Oh, coach, you ran the drills While the rest walked home

The Phone Still Rings

Written from: getting the callback

Seven missed calls stack up in the corner shade, each one a little less like the prayers that I made I swiped my cards through storefronts with no light, left my name at bars where the neon died at night

The phone still rings like a Sunday morning bell, I ain’t home but the call feels like it knows me well Oh the echo of your voice still lights the hall I’ll walk the longest mile just to hear you call The phone still rings like a Sunday morning bell, I ain’t home but the call feels like it knows me well Oh the echo of your voice still lights the hall I’ll walk the longest mile just to hear you call

Then one orange glow lit the screen at last, the only name that ever moves my hands so fast I pressed it warm against the side of my face, and the lonely turned to grateful without a trace

Now every ring’s a door I swing wide, every word your tongue supplies

The phone still rings like a Sunday morning bell, I run but never quite escape the swell Of the echo of your voice that still lights the hall I’ll walk the back road home just to hear you call

River Memory

Written from: a river you swam in as a kid

River, river, you call my name, Morning mist rolls over the stones, Footsteps echo, skin in the cool, Heartbeat syncing with the flow.

Back then I floated, alone on the bend, Sky stretched wide, but the world felt thin, The water whispered, “you’re not the only one,” And I learned to breathe with the current’s grin. Now I surface, grateful for the tide, Sunlight paints the ripple’s golden lace, Every splash writes a story on my skin, From lonely drift to a dance of grace.

I watched clouds drift like old friends above, Their shadows chased the river’s silver line, My small hands cupped the trembling tide, Finding mirrors in the rippling shine. When the day grew heavy, the water held, A quiet promise that I’d return, Now I stand on the bank, feet bare, heart full, Thanking the river for the lessons learned.

Sisi, the water sings in tongues I feel, A rhythm that pulls my spirit home, From the quiet depth to the laughing spray, I carry its pulse wherever I roam.

River, river, you still call my name, I walk away, but your song stays near, In every step, the current’s echo, A grateful tide that never disappears.

Blackout Rhapsody

Written from: the night the power went out

Fan blades hover, warm air sticks Ice cubes sweating in a glass already half gone Clock hands moving but no sound to mark the seconds Phantom steps in the hall when no one’s home

Light went out and the city turned to ink Quiet like a held breath Light went out and the stars got louder Light went out and the city turned to ink Quiet like a held breath Light went out and the stars got louder

Your messages backlog, screen a dead lagoon One candle gutters on the windowsill Moths tracing patterns only they remember Then the breeze turns the draft into a song

Not the kind of dark you fear More like the dark you lean into Whole galaxies rearranging themselves Just for this moment

Light went out and for once The silence had a shape Light went out and I learned To listen to the dark instead

One Last Sale

Written from: the last shift before closing a family shop

Mama's counting down the minutes till we close Papa's humming along to the radio My siblings and I, we're racing to finish the chores The smell of suya and jollof rice wafts from next door

One last sale, one last smile One last sale, one last smile

The regulars come in, exchanging stories and laughs Mrs. Johnson buys her weekly lotto ticket, and Mr. Lee grabs a cold drink at last We chat about the week, the wins and the strife As we work together, side by side, a sense of pride and life

Tonight, we'll lock up, and head home as one The day's last rays of sunshine, shining bright, and won

So let's make this last shift, one to recall With love, with laughter, we'll stand tall.

Rust in Peace

Written from: a car that finally died on the way home

Sputtering down the county line Dashboard lit up like a Christmas sign Radio still played our favorite tune While the engine sang its last low croon

Rust in peace, goodnight old friend Wheels won't turn, but the heart still sends Rust in peace, goodnight old friend Wheels won't turn, but the heart still sends Rust in peace, goodnight old friend Wheels won't turn, but the heart still sends

Skies turned pink where the sun dipped low Your hood was hot but the road got slow Coasted in on fumes and a prayer Still the only ride that always cared

Not a single part left for restore Just the mirror’s dust and the door’s old roar But the miles we laughed through fill the rearview still Proof that even rust can’t steal the thrill

Key turned in the ignition one last time A cough, a choke, then silence climbed Left you parked where the fireflies rise Tomorrow’s sky in your tired eyes

Boxes Full of Dust

Written from: moving out of a flat you never liked

Sun’s a spotlight on peeling paint, Cracks like question marks no one bothered to paint. Landlord called three times last week, We left his voicemail bleeding in the street.

Stack it neat, we’re walking out, Dust bunnies bow down to the broom’s last bout. Stack it neat, not one thing saved, Only the echo of rent that we out-raced. Stack it neat, we’re walking out, Dust bunnies bow down to the broom’s last bout. Stack it neat, not one thing saved, Only the echo of rent that we out-raced. Stack it neat, we’re walking out, Dust bunnies bow down to the broom’s last bout. Stack it neat, not one thing saved, Only the echo of rent that we out-raced.

Washing machine coughed its last thrill, Rusted tub still spinning a broken wheel. Neighbors’ barbecue smoked through the wall, We breathed the fumes and breathed them all.

Door slam’s a punctuation mark, Sentence closed, no need to remark. Key went clink in the dead of night, Landlord’s dream died in fluorescent light.

Boxes full of dust go rolling down the stair, New walls won’t remember how we ever cared.

Missed Call on Friday

Written from: a phone call you did not pick up

Coffee cup still on the sill Your voice was cotton, soft and thin Thursday’s ghost still hums my name But the call just slips like rain

Ring once, twice—left it go Chime like sunlight through the window Ring once, twice—gone too quick Now my pocket’s full of static Ring once, twice—left it go Chime like sunlight through the window Ring once, twice—gone too quick Now my pocket’s full of static Ring once, twice—left it go Chime like sunlight through the window Ring once, twice—gone too quick Now my pocket’s full of static

Clock said three, you laughed at eight Static wrapped you in the plate Left no trace but Friday’s glow Like you knew I had to go

Cold Dawn Celebration

Written from: the first cold morning of the year

Frost paints the panes like tiny beads of light. My feet tap on the porch, the floor still humming. Steam curls from the cup, a sunrise in a mug. Laughter rolls louder than the morning wind. The city yawns, but our rhythm already wakes.

First cold morning, we move, we smile. Beat drops low, heart lifts high. Sun peeks, we greet, we shine. Oya, oya, feel the joy.

Breath paints clouds that vanish with a laugh. Streets glisten, shoes splash in the fresh spray. Voices rise, a choir of steps on the pavement. My sister shouts, “Come, let’s chase the sunrise.” We spin, the wind joins our chorus.

Hands clasp, the cold turns to a pulse. Every drumbeat cracks the silence of the dawn. We ride the sunrise, no pause, no doubt. Together, we write the day in motion.

First cold morning, we move, we smile. Beat drops low, heart lifts high. Sun peeks, we greet, we shine. Oya, oya, feel the joy.

The New Tenant

Written from: somebody else living in your old house

Monday wash hung out in electric blue, The old oak table holds their coffee too. Kids’ shoes by the fridge, a coat on the hook, Same cracks in the stucco, different boots took Their place by the door.

Boots on the porch where mine used to be, Laughter rings like a bicycle bell in the breeze. Boots on the porch where mine used to be, Laughter rings like a bicycle bell in the breeze. Boots on the porch where mine used to be, Laughter rings like a bicycle bell in the breeze.

Front-porch light left on past nine o’clock, Strumming an old song I don’t even know. Dishes left half-done and a stack of bills, Their life fits the rooms like a second skin fills.

Maybe I’ll swing by when the stars come out, Bring a pie nobody asked me to make, Peel back the curtain, wave through the screen— House doesn’t care whose name’s on the lease.

Boots still there, the light still burns. Not mine to miss, just theirs to earn.

Solo at the Celebration

Written from: a wedding you went to alone

I walked in alone, but the music took my hand Led me to the dance floor, where love was in demand Strangers became friends, as we swayed to the beat I felt the happiness, it was hard to compete

Oh, the joy is contagious, it's a beautiful sight Everybody's smiling, feeling alive on this night

The bride and groom, they shared their first dance I watched with a grin, feeling a sense of romance The cake was cut, the speeches were made I cheered and applauded, feeling grateful to be a part of this parade

Maybe I didn't have a plus one by my side But in this moment, I felt a sense of pride Being alone, didn't mean I was blue I was surrounded by love, and that's all I needed to feel brand new

Now the night is over, the music's fading away But the memory of this celebration, will stay with me every day.

Before the Lines

Written from: learning your parents were young once

Mama’s record spinning loud Daddy’s voice moon-eyed and proud Pictures in a shoebox stack Showing how they cracked the cracks Left by folks who told them no

Yeah, they had their own dreams Before the lines we’re drawing in Yeah, they had their own dreams Before the lines we’re drawing in Yeah, they had their own dreams Before the lines we’re drawing in

Silk dress saved for Sunday night Her laugh still cuts the city light His first car’s got a dented door But it carried him to her before The kids could ask how they began

Age don’t mean a thing in the glow Of the things they used to know We walk tall ‘cause they ran first Now the whole world feels rehearsed

Play that record once again ‘Cause before the lines—we’re family then

Late Goodbyes

Written from: the hour before a flight you do not want to take

Luggage tags still warm from print Sunset paints the runway tint Ticket clutched inside my jacket Clock too loud, but that’s the contract

Goodbye’s just a seatbelt click Smile and wave, don’t look back quick Goodbye’s just a seatbelt click Smile and wave, don’t look back quick Goodbye’s just a seatbelt click Smile and wave, don’t look back quick

Ticket stub from last year’s trip Now the gate is moving, lips Pretend my heart’s a tourist too Taking photos I can’t undo

Seatbelt tight, the engines sing Every mile’s a letting go thing

Goodbye’s just a seatbelt click Smile and wave, don’t look back quick

Lining in My Pocket

Written from: finding a receipt in an old coat

Tuesday’s rain still on the cuff Coffee stain where the bus was rough Keys from the winter, still got weight Ticket stub that bought a date

Old coat smell in the morning light Receipt in my pocket, folded tight Old coat smell in the morning light Receipt in my pocket, folded tight Old coat smell in the morning light Receipt in my pocket, folded tight

Five more days till rent comes due Found a quarter stuck like glue Pocket lint but I don’t mind Proof that time was kind

Ripple of thanks where I sit Faded ink still speaks a bit

Phone Rings in the Sun

Written from: a friend who stopped answering

I see your smile on the market stall, mango shade in the afternoon Your laugh lingers on the rooftop, drums echoing down the alley I sip palm wine, think of the jokes we traded on the bus A lone drumbeat rolls, I tap it on the table, waiting

Oya, my friend, hear the rhythm, we groove while you’re gone Oya, my friend, hear the rhythm, we groove while you’re gone

The sun paints gold on the bus stop bench where we used to chat Your sneakers left a trail on the sand, I follow the imprint I spin the cassette, the bass thumps, my smile stays wide Even silence dances, I’m still moving, feet on the pavement

Kukutana, we’ll meet again, the sunrise knows our name Kukutana, we’ll meet again, the sunrise knows our name

Oya, my friend, hear the rhythm, we groove while you’re gone Oya, my friend, hear the rhythm, we groove while you’re gone

The Last Day of School

Written from: the summer job you thought was temporary

Monday hum of the register’s glow Same faces, but the sun burns slow Boss says “Son, keep those sleeves rolled tight” I count the hours like a thief at night

Summer job, just for now Paycheck laughs, but time’s like rain Summer job, just for now Light it up before the chain Summer job, just for now Paycheck laughs, but time’s like rain Summer job, just for now Light it up before the chain Summer job, just for now Paycheck laughs, but time’s like rain Summer job, just for now Light it up before the chain

Friday night, the neon hum Cooler full of drinks we shouldn’t chug Keys left in the dented ride We’re not clocking out, we’re clocking inside

Tomorrow’s not a due date It’s just another shift to wait

Passing By

Written from: driving past your old school at night

Headlights on the empty road, 2 am delight The school gates, a familiar sight Memories of laughter, tears, and fun Riding past, the night has just begun

Oreme, oreme, passing by Oreme, oreme, passing by Oreme, oreme, passing by

The playground's dark, the fields are still But in my mind, I see the thrill Of Friday nights, of friendships made The joy of youth, the love we've played

Life has taken me to distant places But the memories of those faces Remain with me, a treasured find A night drive, and I'm back in time

The road unwinds, a joyful sound As I drive on, my heart spinning round The night air, a happy thrill Passing by, my old school's gentle hill.

Grey Hound, Blue Hour

Written from: a dog that got old while you were away

He used to kick the back gate open just to sit where the sidewalk tilts His nose still knows every hot-dog stand on 5th but his paws tap-dance slower now

Gone a long grey hound gone a long blue hour Gone a long grey hound walk with me now Gone a long grey hound gone a long blue hour Gone a long grey hound walk with me now Gone a long grey hound gone a long blue hour Gone a long grey hound walk with me now

Sent you photos of his white stripe going silver like moonlight on telephone wire He sleeps through thunder, dreams of younger squirrels still wags when the leash comes out

One more biscuit tucked in his collar one more stumble toward the park bench We sit where we used to share a stick of beef jerky and the bench remembers him younger

Gone a long grey hound walk with me now

Spark Before the Dawn

Written from: the last day of a bad year

Streamers stuck to shoes, Balloons half-deflated, One last laugh or two Before the light is stated. Candles burn too low, Wicks tell their last story, But who needs soft glow When tomorrow’s got its glory?

Spark before the dawn, We outlast the storm, Spark before the dawn— Let the year be gone! Spark before the dawn, We outlast the storm, Spark before the dawn— Let the year be gone! Spark before the dawn, We outlast the storm, Spark before the dawn— Let the year be gone!

Midnight chimes are sweet, They don’t ask for apologies, Just a steady heartbeat Counting new possibilities. Fireworks in slow mo, Colors blend to morning, Every burst says so— This bad run’s got no warning.

Not a minute of this Wasted on goodbyes, We chase the sun’s first kiss, Leave the gray skies behind.

Spark before the dawn, Flame now turns to living, Spark before the dawn— We are the spark, we are the morning.

Salt and Pepper Tears

Written from: somebody teaching you a recipe over the phone

Knife taps the cutting board where daylight lingers Your voice says slice so soft it almost sings it I laugh and lose the measure twice in one breath You count the onions slow then tell me “next step’s death”

Salt and pepper tears Don’t wash away your years Salt and pepper tears Salt and pepper tears Don’t wash away your years Salt and pepper tears Salt and pepper tears Don’t wash away your years Salt and pepper tears

A pot on low hums its private lullaby Your whistled tune slips through the line like smoke I crush the garlic with the side of my palm Some lessons carry more than the food they warm

Boiling water asks who taught us how to love Your answer’s in the steam that curls around my thumb

Salt and pepper tears Won’t wash away your years

Laughing at the Standoff

Written from: an argument nobody won

We met on the market where the drums beat low, You claimed the sunrise belongs to the east, I said it’s a trick of the tide. A mango fell, rolled past our shoes, and we both reached for it at the same time. Laughter cracked the air like a drumroll, while the sun winked behind the rooftops.

We ain’t got no winner, we just keep on vibing, We ain’t got no winner, we just keep on vibing.

Your words danced like palm leaves in the breeze, my grin matched every step. We swapped stories of grand plans, each one louder than the last, till the night sang us a chorus. The crowd swayed, clapping to the rhythm of our back‑and‑forth, no scoreboard needed. In the end the only thing we settled was the groove under our feet.

Hey, hey, let the beat pull us round, Hey, hey, no point in counting crowns.

We ain’t got no winner, we just keep on vibing, We ain’t got no winner, we just keep on vibing.

The Empty Hall

Written from: the quiet after everyone leaves

Coffee rings on yesterday's paper, Clock ticks slow on the wintry sill, One lost mitten by the shoe rack, I keep the half of it I still.

The door shuts soft behind you now, Light stays warm on someone's face, I'm the shadow left on the floor, Counting cracks in the hallway. The door shuts soft behind you now, Light stays warm on someone's face, I'm the shadow left on the floor, Counting cracks in the hallway. The door shuts soft behind you now, Light stays warm on someone's face, I'm the shadow left on the floor, Counting cracks in the hallway.

Laughter's echo down the stairwell, Distant doors click, one by one, A coat still hangs on the peg by the kitchen, Holding the shape of my sun.

Silence hums like a tuning fork, Footsteps fade to the street below, Every thing keeps its small corner, Even the love we choose to stow.

The door shuts soft behind you now.

Seventeen Summers

Written from: a promise made at seventeen

We were wild and free, with our whole lives ahead Dancing under the stars, with our hearts full of thread We promised to chase, our dreams and our sun And never look back, till our journey is done

I remember the night, I made you a vow To love and to cherish, through all of life's highs and lows Seventeen summers, have come and gone But my promise remains, forever strong

We've lived and we've loved, through every up and down Through every laugh and every tear, our bond has worn the crown We've built a life together, with every brick and every stone And with every passing day, our love has made its home

Now we're standing here, with our hearts full of cheer Looking back on the years, and the memories we hold dear We've got our whole lives, still ahead of us tonight And I promise to love you, with all my might

I remember the night, I made you a vow And I'll keep on loving you, forever and always, somehow.

Late Evening Light

Written from: the walk home after good news

Train pulled in ten minutes early Bench still warm from the old man's coat Phone's buzzing with the good news text Feet don't even seem to touch the coat

Hey, late evening light Hey, it feels alright Hey, late evening light Hey, it feels alright Hey, late evening light Hey, it feels alright

Gas station roses in the window Three for a dollar, can’t go wrong My reflection’s got a new swagger Whistling something I don’t know the words to

Brick walls keep the cool night air out But they can't keep this feeling in

Hey, late evening light Hey,

Silver and Spice

Written from: counting money on a kitchen table

Wednesday night, the desk lamp low Fingers flick like radio Rusty keys in yesterday’s jeans Smooths the coins like morning dreams

Count it, count it, make it sing Silver and spice, twice in a dime Count it, count it, make it sing Silver and spice, twice in a dime Count it, count it, make it sing Silver and spice, twice in a dime

Laundry pile by the back door Wind chimes hum the 7-4 Every nickel weighs a pound Weighs a pound when love is found

Questions

Is this Afrobeats lyrics generator free?

Yes. Most requests are answered from a library written in advance, so serving a page costs nothing to run.

Can it write in Pidgin or Yoruba?

It writes in English by default and will not fake fluency in a language it cannot write well. Write those lines yourself and use this for the structure around them.

How long should an Afrobeats hook be?

Short. A handful of words that repeat often carries the song, and stretching a hook to fill eight conventional bars usually weakens it.

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