Read a poem and watch some acoustic performances below as Young the Giant stop by the Big Ugly Yellow Couch for a Couch Session.
They sing that life's too short, and it's true, you know,
never knowing when it ends, unsure of when you'll go.
But one thing I'm sure of is that I'm completely irked,
that this many people crammed together, and i couldn't watch it work.
My apartment — filled with boys! — while I was about to board a plane,
six playing here in Brooklyn, as I headed back from Spain.
It's the first session I've missed, the first shot wholly alone,
Me: stuffing my face with tapas, Donald: running the home.
I mean, come on, they're holding my stuffed creatures with smiles —
It's like a postcard from my dream world, worth using up my frequent flier miles.
There's one shaking a jar of Nerds who isn't even in the band!
Just a friend having some fun with candies in his hand.
The more I listen, I realize how much I missed,
but when it all sounds so good, its hard to stay pissed.
With a band practically exploding on our yolk-colored couch,
There are only videos to show me what it was all about.
I guess today, I'm just like all of you,
Here to watch, with no other updating to do.
It's weird to view it from the audience's eye,
to not see what went into it, and to never ask why.
So I'll keep watching, like a stumbled upon song,
since accidentally coming across something you love is never wrong.
At least when I say I can't get enough, you'll know I'm being true,
So here's Young The Giant — as new for me as it is for you.