Do you ever feel like a plastic bag,
Drifting through the wind,
Wanting to start again?
Primary commentary, as my co-author tgo13 so appropriately pointed out: plastic bags don't get to start again. They are not recyclable; in fact, they are one of the most damaging items mis-appropriated into the recycling bin - they shred easily and clog the processing machines at waste processing facilities. You're killing the baby sea turtles.
On a more superficial note, Katy, we don't need a reminder of what it feels like to float along, bloated and billowing - aren't eating disorders rampant enough? Now you force us to relive our fat days? And your suggestion for a coping mechanism? Arson. Pyromania. Blowing things up like a "fiiiiiiiiiiiiirewoork". Really?
Oh, and voice cracks. I've heard you attempt this song live, Miss Perry, and all the "ah-ah-ah"s and "oh-oh-oh"s are pain inducing. The neighborhood dogs do seem to enjoy a good howl-along, though.
I'm all about exuberance and showing your True Colors (I see you, Phil Collins) and everything, but this just seems like a cursory attempt to disguise your whining voice as a motivation song for tween girlies. Could you pretty please drop a line to my local radio station and tell them to stop playing this song every 30 minutes? I cannot be held responsible for any road rage this song generates.
Thanx,
T-ST-B
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