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(Lyriscope newbies: The idea is we take the entire lyric of a song, and see how far it is possible to live the words. The success of this is measured with the Lyriscope, which is pictured further down this page...)

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Lyric: "She's freaky and she knows it. She's freaky but I like it"

This could have gone one of two ways. Either this is a spectacularly un-PC description of a lady who Justin knows, who has a disability of some sort - and she knows it - or he means freaky in the slang sense - she's not disabled, she's just double-jointed, and has a lot of facial hair.

Not that JT is going to judge someone on appearances, he used to be in a band with Joey Fatone after all. Hence the "I like it". But when it comes to living a lyric like this, it's not long before you realise that you're standing on very shaky ground just asking people if they KNOW someone who is freaky, male or female. You have to be very delicate, very polite, very unthreatening.

And the reason I know this is because the outraged elder brother of the girl with a slight limp who walks to work near my house has just been over to explain why he personally doesn't appreciate anyone referring to his sister as freaky, no matter how Justin Timberlake or anyone else has chosen to interpret the word. And he is not impressed by the Lyriscope either, if his attempts to make me eat it are anything to go by.

Lyriscope Reading: 2.4

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Lyric: "She grabs the yellow bottle, she likes the way it hits her lips
She gets to the bottom, it sends her on a trip so right"
Hmm. Of all the adventures Madame Lyricsope has sent me on, this one was by far the most unsettling. In fact I don't really want to explain exactly what this particular lyric made me do, except to say that I'm pretty sure that I won't be welcome at my local hospital any more, even if I DO go back and have the Lyriscope bruises across my face looked at.

Oh, just a word of warning to any junior lyriscopers out there. It's not a great idea to make ANYONE drink from "the yellow bottle", unless you are SURE that the liquid contained within is lemon-flavoured. Any other yellow liquid, particularly yellow liquid which makes the bottle steam, is BAD, BAD, BAD, and WILL NOT heal a poorly girl well enough to allow her to leave their sick bed. Frankly, that Timberlake fella must be mentally unwell if he thinks this is an alluring way to carry on.

Lyriscope Reading: 0.1

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Lyric: "She looks like a model. Except she's got a little more ass"
After a dog's age scouring ebay, specialist shops, toy shops, craft shops and architectural colleges, I have to concede that there aren't many models you can buy that look like the female face, apart from those medical ones doctors use to demonstrate how your innards all fit together and stuff. This is not a look which many girls wish to carry off, but you do have to concede that if the girl JT is singing about DOES resemble this kind of model, this would definitely mean that she is 'freaky', as outlined above.

This does leave me at something of a disadvantage, as I still haven't managed to find a girl who is 'freaky' to any degree, let alone one whose spleen you can pull out and show to biology students. And even if I did know a girl like that, taking that spleen and replacing it with a donkey is just bullying, plain and simple. I'm beginning to lose heart. This lyriscope mission is already going appallingly badly.

Lyriscope Reading: 0.7

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Lyric: "Those flashing lights come from everywhere.
The way they hit her I just stop and stare"
Now this is a bit more like it. Forget hanging about at the bus stop, watching girls for abnormalities (some of those bus drivers can be so RUDE), this is like something out of a Hard-Fi song or something, all social realism and that.

You join me at midnight in my local high street. There are chips underfoot, some uneaten and thrown to one side, some eaten and thrown up, although it's the curry pavement splatters which impress the most, artistically. On the other side of the road, there's a gang of girls smoking cigarettes outside the town's only nightclub - The Coconut Ice.

On my side of the road, a police car has just pulled up. One of the smoking girls has said something rude to another one, and a slap has been thrown. One of the policement gets out to try and calm the situation, but he is roundly abused for his trouble. I do not move, but continue to observe from the shadows, until a very drunk man fails to spot the difference between a darkened alcove with me in it, and a urinal. This, I decide as I head my squelchy way home, is karma for the hospital incident.

Lyriscope Reading: 4.6

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Lyric: "Hot damn! Let me put my funk on this one time."

Nope, no idea.

Lyriscope Reading: 0.3

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Lyric: "The baddest in town. She's flawless like some uncut ice."
Aren't English teachers snotty? All I did was ring the sixth form college to find out whether their humanities department could give me an offical response to a verse from a popular song which contains a very good use of what literature boffins call a similie - which is where you attribute values to something because of similar values that something else has, in this case, calling a girl flawless like an uncut diamond, which is also often called flawless.

The key word in working out similies is 'like'. If Justin had said that the girl WAS an uncut diamond, without going the long way around explaining that this means she is flawless, that would be a metaphor.

Anyway, I explained all this to the teacher, and she just said "BADDEST? BADDEST? THE WORD IS 'WORST'!" and slammed the phone down. Mystifying.

Lyriscope Reading: 3.4

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Another wild goose chase, sadly. There are very few dance classes that cater for girls with removable organs (such a strange definition of 'flawless', wouldn't you say?), especially not girls with removable organs who can't stand up.

Lyriscope Reading: 4.6

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TOTAL LYRISCOPE READING: 3.8

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Previously On The Lyriscope...

Kate Nash
Fergie