You like mcr, panic at the disco, choppy hair cuts, fall out boy and black clothing. You can’t stop smudging your eyeliner, you can’t stay out of hot topic, and you don’t know the top 20 charts. Face it, you’re never gonna leave 2005.
I don’t wanna leave 2005. i just wanna
There I said it I guess I’ll talk to you in a few months
Sitting drunk on the sidewalk
I guess I’ll get up
I guess I’ll go for a walk
Press my shoes against the pavement
I swear this has got to be the hundredth
Time I’ve thought of you tonight
He looks so happy.