Sat in the corner and looked kind of sad as she watched everyone go home
Then she brightened. Reached in her bag and started messing with her phone
No one can even agree on what makes a good song
So when we gather together we do it alone
I have a yearning to hear something and so I grab it from the air
If I'm lucky when I reach up my hand I will also find you there
Inside a 21st century jukebox
Came in on the tail end of an age whose last day was overdue
Never had a chance to know about Elvis before I said goodbye to you
And now I kinda hope for the trouble that comes with the new
So grab my hand and start pulling me inside a 21st century jukebox