I keep saying, “I don’t listen to lyrics.” But, of course I do. A little. Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I still can’t make out what the singer is on about. It’s often easier simply to lie back, relax, let the music wash over me and accept the words merely as a means of allowing the human voice to act as an instrument. Then, occasionally, a word or phrase bubbles up that catches my ear.

I have listened to Every Breath You Take thousands of times. I like it but my dad really loved it. Today, I heard it again on the radio. At 55 seconds in, the chorus starts, the second line of which turns out to be, “How my poo-hole aches, with every step you take.” I’d never noticed before. It didn’t surprise me. After all, Sting has issues.