Lyrically, we'd all like to think we've come a long way since rock'n'roll was delivered with a deft slap on its backside some 50-odd years ago. But have we really? And - more importantly - does it even matter? There is, after all, an argument that states that words to pop songs rarely matter. Or, to put it another way: those who can, write; those who can't, write pop songs. It's an issue I delved into for my show Taxing Lyrical, which polled 6 Music listener's for the 10 most excruciating lyrics of all time. It dragged up some ugly memories.

What swiftly became clear is that, from Elvis extolling the virtues of being someone's Teddy Bear right through to the current batch of pop trolls banging on about their loveless lives, the inane has always ruled the airwaves. "There's nothing on Earth that could save us, when I fell in love with Uranus" goes Star Girl, McFly's attempt to show us that nothing sets the Britney generation a chatterin' quite like an oblique pun.

But who's to blame? Even some of our most eulogised pop legends hardly set high standards with their introductory offerings. Take the Beatles: "I wanna hold your hand", "Please, please me", "She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah". Hardly gives William Blake a run for his money does it?

And don't be fooled into thinking this was an innocent age of stolen kisses and coy glances. Consider Lennon's paranoiac homage to the art of lamping-one on an untrustworthy squeeze in Run For Your Life? ("Well I'd rather see you dead little girl, than to be with another man"). Lennon was later to admit it was the one song he'd wished he'd never written, though the misogynistic and murderous content didn't seem to worry Nancy Sinatra - she covered it one year later.

But when it comes to terrible lyrical content, we can always rely on Sting to scale new depths of stylised twaddle. He may look good in a vest but, let's be frank, a Bernie Taupin to his Elton John would not have gone unappreciated.

"De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da is all I want to say to you!" was the exclamation on, umm, De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da. "Really!?" came the reply from any sane female. "Is that the best you can do, you monosyllabic dolt?!"

It was only when the former schoolteacher went solo that he really hit his stride, though. A few samples from the case for the prosecution:

This War (2003): "You've got the mouth of a she wolf/Inside the mask of an innocent lamb/You say your heart is all compassion/But there's just a flat line on your cardiogram"

Fill Her Up (1999): "Mobile station, where I stand/This old gas pump, in my hand/The Boss don't like me, face like a weasel/All on my hands, the smell of diesel/Here comes the big shot, here he comes from the city/God Damn! A V-8 engine/She runs so pretty/Woo! Fill 'er up son ... with unleaded"

And that's before we get to Perfect Love Gone Wrong, a song reputedly from the perspective of a dog who feels neglected and angst-ridden when his owner, a Frenchman (who injects some Gallic rapping into proceedings), finds a new lover.

Seriously, I'm lost for words. It's just a shame Sting wasn't.

· Taxing Lyrical is on Marc Riley's Brain Surgery, Fri 27, 7pm, BBC 6Music