I’d like to preface this column by saying that I’ve never actually been in love, and so, by extension, none of the lyrics of love songs have ever applied to me. I mean, I’ve thought about boys. That has definitely happened. A lot. I spent an entire summer scrubbing plates and pots, and not thinking about anything but this one particular lad with a very silly fringe, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a sign of love. A sign of a wholly vacuous mind that should never have been let into this university perhaps but love? Nahhhh. #saynotolove, that’s my motto. As the premise of this column suggests, however, this doesn’t mean that I haven’t frequently belted love songs out, cheerfully imbuing them with deeply misplaced emotion.

The most bizarre of these, inarguably, is Hozier’s In A Week (to placate my irate fans, may I point out HE’S FROM IRELAND?!).

“I have never known hunger

Like these insects that feast on me

A thousand teeth

And yours among them”

Alright. That’s like... a strong image, in like, a Lord of the Flies way, but is it really what you’re wanting to be equating being in love to? I have to admit, when moseying over Magdalene Bridge, humming away and singing “Layyyy here, for years or for hours”, I’m picturing an image altogether more... domestic than the graveyard in which Hozier-bae appears to be conducting his chirpse. To the delight of all passers-by, I will continue on to the lyrics “Thrown here or found / To freeze or to thaw”, but at this point our old barriers of misunderstanding and inapplicability arise. This, one might say, is indicative of a lack of acceptance of deeper emotions. It’s grand to be dossing around mindlessly in bed for an unspecified amount of time, but bring up a bit of freeze-thaw action, and it’s say no to GCSE Geography, say no to emotions, and say no, (definitely, definitely) to love. It’s scary, and Hozier, fittingly, has more or less written a horror song about it.

“Maybe love a good thing after all, and an emotion we should all be feeling. Maybe we all should be relating to Hozier”

An altogether better, and actually unsuitable for this column ’cos the lyrics are applicable, song, comes from the lads in Flogging Molly:

“She says I’m okay, I’m alright

Though you have gone from my life

You said that it would

Now everything should be all right”

Yessss this is just, like – I’m totally departing from any theme this column might have had – but these are just the best lyrics ever. I mean, I might be deeply misunderstanding them, but they are just the epitome of everyone who claims they don’t want anything serious, and then kind of squints at you to make sure you’re not like, weeping at this news. It’s fine. We’re Teflon lads – there’s nothing you can do. This is the musical equivalent to a friend of mine’s lovely habit of meeting every possible disaster with the phrase “Be grand”. Because it will be.

“You said that it would/ Now everything should/ Be alright.”

Of course, that might not be even remotely what that song is about. To be honest, the rest of the lyrics hint at the possibility that the lad has died and the girl, despite definitely loving him deeply, has managed to power through, potentially as a result of (you know) the strength that their love gave her. Hype for love. Maybe.

I mean, yeah. Maybe love a good thing after all, and an emotion we should all be feeling. Maybe we all should be relating to Hozier. Even The Saw Doctors after all, wordsmiths of the like who wrote an entire song on the loneliness of a bag of chips:

“vinegar tears

salt in my wounds

and the ketchup like my poor bleeding heart”

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Admitted in one of their edgier songs:

“I useta see her up the chapel when she went to Sunday mass

And when she’d go to receive,

I’d kneel down there and watch her pass

The glory of her ass”

That they useta love her, they useta love her once