Song Structure: Learning the Rules so You Can Break Them

Gather round kids, time to nerd out over songwriting again

Most good things, like it or not, have structure.

For example, my Substack posts start with an introduction, ideally an attention catching paragraph which I typically put in bold. Then, I get into the meat of my topic, talk about why I’m talking about it, and finish off with what we should all do about it.

So, yeah, big fan of structure personally.

Most good things have structure and songs are no exception: all songs follow a structure of some sort, even the loosest, most free-flowing. Most, though, particularly pop songs actually follow very specific, popular structures.

Verse. Chorus. Verse. Chorus.

A simple song might be done there. Other popular forms add pre-choruses, a bridge, maybe even a post-chorus.

While this talk may sound boring, the behind-the-scenes structure of a song crafts your listening experience. In the intro of a new song, you’re either hooked or you’re not. The build of a pre-chorus has you looking forward to the chorus which typically delivers the most memorable part of the song.

I contend that song structure is not some rigid script or checklist to follow, but rather a valuable tool.

When I first started writing songs, I became a bit of a nerd about structure. For a while I was overly strict about it, keeping all my songs to what you could call the “Taylor Swift” structure: verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus.

I’m now a lot more flexible with structure, but I believe this phase made me a better songwriter. You don’t necessarily have to make strict rules for yourself, but getting a little nerdy over structure can help you learn the rules, so you can bend or break them.

Quick vocab lesson (just in case)

I’m sure we all know what a verse and chorus are, but songs can also feature all sorts of things like refrains, pre-choruses, hooks, and outros.

So we’re on the same page, when I say “refrain”, I’m referring to a repeated section distinct from a verse or chorus. Sometimes easily mistaken for a chorus, refrains tend to be more understated whereas choruses tend to be the biggest part of the song.

When I say hook, I’m simply referring to the catchiest phrase in the song, often part of the chorus.

When I say bridge, I’m referring to a section of the song that can also be called the middle eight. This typically comes before the last chorus and is totally distinct from other sections of the song.

Almost every song has some form of intro or outro, often instrumental. But when I talk about a lyrical outro, I’m referring to an added section at the end of a song that’s distinct from the verse, chorus, or bridge. When I talk about a lyrical intro, I’m referring to an opening section that doesn’t repeat in the rest of the song and is different from the first verse.

A double chorus is simply the chorus times two, often with new lyrics set to the same melody. An add-on chorus is when the second or last chorus becomes a double chorus. A teaser chorus is when an artist sings a snippet of the chorus the first time, but saves the rest for later.

With that in mind, let’s get into it!

Why take the time to study song structure?

A mental road map

The hardest part of songwriting is getting started. The second hardest part is figuring out what to do next.

Say you have a song idea: perhaps a loose title, topic, or a melody.

Now, you just have to unravel how to flesh that out into a full song. How in the world do you begin to do that?

My method starts with identifying where in the song that fragment will call home. I’ve done this so much that I no longer have to think hard about it. I have an instinctive feel for where a loose idea might fit. If it’s a title idea, it will likely belong in the chorus.

Since I used to write so strictly Taylor-y, let’s use a Taylor Swift song as an example.

The song “Fearless” follows a typical structure. If our idea is “Fearless”, we might decide that’s gonna be our title and the last word of the chorus.

“I don’t know how it gets better than this/take my hand and drag me headfirst, fearless”

Based off that decision, we now have a destination to write towards: that chorus and the idea of fearlessness.

If you have great chorus ideas and don’t know what to do with them, it can be helpful to see your first verse as set up for the chorus. What does the listener need to know for the chorus to make sense?

In “Fearless”, Taylor establishes a first date setting, full of imagery like dancing in the rain and driving with the windows down. She invokes the feeling of fearlessly falling for someone before the chorus comes right out and says it.

Writers block can mean having nothing to say, but it also often looks like not knowing how to say it. When you’re staring at a blank page, songwriting feels daunting.

Understanding how you can use song structure to map out your song helps you know not just what to say, but how.

If you’re new to songwriting or feeling stuck lately, try looking at popular structures as recipes. Taking into account what’s popular in your chosen genre¹, try using that as a road map.

Never a dull moment

A good understanding of song structure can also help you keep each section of your song interesting.

While structure may sound like the opposite of interesting, predictability isn’t necessarily your enemy. There’s a reason we love songs that sound familiar. There’s a reason we’re more likely to love a song that we’ve heard a snippet of before.

Songs structure isn’t just a road map for the songwriter. It’s also an unconscious road map for the listener. Most listeners do want some idea of where a song is going. When we hear the build of a pre-chorus, we look forward to the release of the chorus.

Using “Fearless” as an example again, Taylor also uses melody to hint at what’s to come. The upturned notes at the ends of the verses build anticipation for that exciting chorus.

Creatives don’t typically like rules, true, but have you ever tried playing with limitations? Sometimes, for an exercise, I give myself a specific structure to follow.

When I first started writing, I had no real concept of structure, so my songs were long, messy, and rambling. All things that I think can be done right in a song! But I had to learn to do short, tidy, and traditional before I could get into experimenting.

So I gave myself exercises like that. I forced myself to say everything I needed to say in a tight pop format: one verse to set the scene, one pre-chorus to build anticipation, one chorus to get the point across, a second verse to dive deeper, and a bridge to really lay it all out.

Through this, I learned to make each section of a song count. If you have a set structure to stick to, you’re motivated to put more thought and intention into each part of the song.

Structure isn’t just about the number of sections either. It’s also the way the song moves along and the journey it takes the listener on. Most songs don’t end the same way they began. Even if the last line is predictable, it’s likely not delivered the same way you first heard it.

Song structure is about finding something that flows and stays interesting. Each section is distinct, but makes sense in the greater context.

Serve the song

With this in mind, you have a framework to begin mixing things up and playing with structure. Most songs go back to the chorus after the bridge, but does yours have to?

In other Taylor Swift songs, she deviates from traditional structures. “Illicit Affairs” ends after the bridge, rather than repeating the chorus. This emphasizes the story of the song—a short-lived passionate affair—and allows it to end on a piercing line: “you know damn well, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times”.

The key to unusual song structures that still work isn’t throwing away the idea of a structure. A structure is the trellis your song grows on—without it, the song falls flat. But that doesn’t mean there’s only one right way to grow.

“State Of Grace” is another T.S. song with an interesting structure. You’re not entirely sure at first listen which part is the chorus. Upon further inspection, we see she uses a refrain as a sort of teaser and we only get the real chorus after the second verse.

Songs are extremely versatile, moldable things, and can be structured a million different ways. While some follow a popular structure to a tee, others may do the bare minimum or add all sorts of extras.

“I Look In People’s Windows” is one of Taylor’s shortest songs. In it, she details a heart wrenching feeling in only two verses and two slightly different choruses. On the other end of the spectrum, “Enchanted” is an absolute mammoth of a song, with extra verses, an add-on chorus, and a refrain thrown in just for fun.

So, for a songwriter, the question is: when and how do you deviate from a typical structure? And how do you know??

Three words: serve the song.

Unless you’re following a specific structure as an exercise, it’s the song that should decide.

“Enchanted” is a melodramatic, giddy song telling the story of love at first sight at an otherwise dull party. It’s also on the “Speak Now” album, an album all about speaking your mind and pouring out your heart. The “extra” sections aren’t unnecessary, they’re what the song calls for.

The best thing you can do for your art is learn to listen to it. All the expertise in the world means nothing if you hold your song back from where it needs to go.

No matter what, I always advocate for simply putting a little extra thought into it. With “August”, Taylor added the iconic outro in the recording booth. The entire song was instantly leveled up with that final touch.

Some songs need few words to get the point across. Some are best served with cool instrumental breaks. Some have added outros; some end abruptly.

It’s also helpful to take note of your pre-existing habits. If you typically write very long, wordy songs, you might want to challenge yourself to cut back a bit. Or vice-versa! If you usually assume your work’s done with the final chorus, maybe take another look. What if you actually have more to say?

I’ve always been a bridge-loving girl, but there are plenty of great songs I love with no bridge. Sydney Ross Mitchell, one of my top five artists, is the queen of simple verse/chorus/verse/chorus affairs.

The important thing is a song that doesn’t feel like it’s missing something. I’m not left feeling like they could’ve kicked it up a notch or dove deeper. I also don’t want a song to feel like it’s wasting my time with empty detours.

We wanna leave the listener wanting more, but not feeling like you missed an opportunity.

The only way to avoid both pitfalls is to serve the song.

Studying song structure can help you become a better writer, but don’t think I’m advocating for slapping the same structure on everything you write.

Learn the rules. Then bend them. Break them. Put them back together, but better. Above all else, do what’s best for each song. Oh, and have fun!!

Scrollscrollscroll a little bit more for a playlist featuring examples of great structures, both traditional and more experimental! 👇

1. My examples in this post are all pop-based, so be aware that what’s “typical” might be completely different in different genre. Folk, another genre I love, typically prioritizes narration. Many traditional folk songs don’t have actual choruses. It’s important to look at them in the context of their genre, because from a mainstream pop point-of-view, a chorus-less song is insanity!

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