BLAH BLAH See the point is that too many people have already sung these songs And are probably sick and tired of pretending to enjoy them So you stand
Tears for ourselves, (what we can do to ourselves) When friends are all we have, (what we can do to ourselves) My fingers, my wrist Some clicks,
Staring into the blank Into a non-linear hole, It sucks you down It expands you inside yourself A parallel paradox converges upon this spot. That
Reston Crew, back again, South Lakes High, where we attend Favorite sweaters in hand, we march to the store Every Friday night is a brand new bore
