The greatest song ever is truly unfathomable. With a variety of different genres, eras, artists, and listeners, it’s no wonder it was never discovered until the world really needed something to do with their time. So, they attempted to answer a question that cannot be answered. The world struggles to come up with a definitive answer for fear of an anti-climactic ending, or a song that is simply overplayed.

The greatest song ever must be something important. Something with wit, history, elegance, emotion, and a killer guitar solo of course. Mozart or Bach? What about the rock bands? The metal heads? Indie music? Jazz? Rap? Soul?

There is no greatest song ever.  With an abundance of people with different backstories and expectations of music, agreeing on the greatest song ever is like asking a swing state who should be president: except there are millions of candidates. And yet, even if asked that question, everyone would have an answer. Their answer. Their greatest candidate. Their greatest song.

 Everyone has different criteria, different feelings they get when they hear their song. For me, I have a floating feeling. The feeling of floating on water, releasing the heavy burdens that weigh me down and floating to the surface. My greatest song is a song that makes me float.

My greatest song ever is “She’s Leaving Home” by the Beatles. Yes, I am a Beatles fan. The annoying type who compares music to a timeless band, still blames Yoko, and disliked One Direction in middle school just because their classmates dared to compare them to the Beatles. I practically grew up on the White Album, which was and still is my dad’s favorite album. My family would vacation at a small lake in the summer, and my dad would bring speakers to the beach and play Beatles music while I drifted away floating in the water. In sixth grade, I ventured out to Abbey Road and 1. With my love for the Beatles ever growing, I entered high school. Once there, I only discovered that they were still my greatest band. If anything, my enormous love for them grew exponentially. The way they complicate rhythms, the way their voices work together, and their dry sarcastic connection that the listener can almost hear in every song makes them timeless. All of their talent mixed together creates music that people continue to relish.

However, with a band that creates timeless music, many of their songs are lost to the pop charts. They fail to spread as quickly as “Twist and Shout” or “Come together.” One of these songs, my greatest song ever, is “She’s Leaving Home”. Upon hearing this song for the first time, I listened to it on repeat for two hours straight. Something about the soft melody, the freedom of the lyrics, the story and the life that they portrayed spoke to me. It gave me the floating feeling.

Once my dad was home, I ran to the speaker, connected my phone, and played the song. I could see his expressionless face begin to form an awkward half smile before he spoke to me. “It’s good.” He said to me. “I just like “Rocky Racoon” better.” Normally something of this measure would put a weight on me, but I knew, and I know now, that it would always be my greatest song. And that will always keep me afloat.