Last summer we took trees across the board...
But by fall, we were a cover story, now in stores...
Make us poster boys for your scene, but we are not making an
acceptance speech...
I found the safest place to keep all our old mistakes,
Every dot com‘s refreshing for a journal update...
Long live to the car crash hearts,
Cry on the couch all the poets come to live...
Fix me in 45...
I can take you problems away with a nood and a wave...
Of my hand, ‘cause that‘s just the kind of boy that i am...
The only thing i haven‘t done yet is die,
And it‘s me and my plus one at the afterlife...
Crowds are won and lost and won again,
But our hearts beat ...
For the diehards...