Tonally Inconsistent?!

I could never fall asleep with you beside me

There was something in the way you breathed that made me frightened

You had no respect for me

For my artistry

For my music

I don't get what you mean you find it

Tonally inconsistent

Everything I make is totally tonally coherent

It's generically uniform

And uses the traditional instruments

If love is the answer, then what is the question?

If love is the answer, then what is the question?

If love is the answer, then what is the question?

Can you pat my bum

So your accusing me (it's what I feared, oh)

Of writing music inconsistently

When you can clearly see (with both your earholes)

I pick one mood and then I stick to it

Chapter four, the cursed bed knob

Okay I admit that that was

Possibly one slip

From being tonally consistent

But I'm fixing it, fixing it

Must I now embrace that

This is problem I've been facing

Since the moment I started making music

Is that it, is that it?

Can my life having meaning

If my art is always cleaved

Between two matrices of being

Am I wasting it, wasting it

Must I now accept

That this artistic dialect

Is my fragmented ego manifesting

Time to quit, is it time to quit?

But the bums! Don't forget about the bums, Jazz

You know they're funny to think about

You know they're funny to sing about

But the bums (we are your bums, we're your bums)

Could I leave behind the bums (come here guys)

You're so funny to think about

And so witty to sing about