Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > From Under The Cork Tree
Chapter 12- We Never Had It At All
"Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "just friends"
We are the kids who feel like dead ends
And I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses
I took a shot and didn't even come close
At trust and love and hope
And the poets are just kids who didn't make it
who never had it at all"
Pete looked down at the words he was writing and sighed.
Oh so emo...
Smiling at his own thoughts he leaned back and listened as the CD he was listening to play.
I wonder how this will turn out...
Suddenly the song started to skip and Pete looked over annoyed as Patrick sighed, stopping it and putting something new in.
"Damned record won't stop skipping," he mumbled and Pete removed his hands from behind his head, sitting up and staring at Patrick.
"What?" he asked, holding the previous CD.
"What did you just say?" he asked and Patrick shifted his eyes, nervously.
"The record won't stop skipping?" he more asked and Pete slightly opened his mouth, thinking about that line.
"The record won't stop skipping...and..." he paused.
"The best part of believe is the lie, Peter Wentz,"
Pete widened his eyes, in discovery.
"The record won't stop skipping, and the lies just won't stop slipping," he spoke and Patrick developed a wide smile.
"Perfect...you're welcome," he muttered and walked back into the living room. Pete was at Patrick's house, as he didn't want to be too close to Lizzie's house.
"And the record won't stop skipping
and the lies just won't stop slipping
And besides my reputation's on the line
we can fake it for the airwaves
Force our smiles, baby, half dead
from comparing myself to everyone else around me"
Pete looked back at his sloppy handwriting, happy with the way this song was going. He let his eyes drift away from the desk and out the window, where he could faintly see the giant cork tree in his neighborhood. Sighing he looked back down at the paper. Pete still felt the pain of losing Lizzie, but he really didn't want to give up like he did last time. With each breath that he took, his heart went with it, heavy, hurting his back.
"This is going to be one hell of a song..." he muttered to himself and picked up the pen again.
"Please put the doctor on the phone because I'm not making any sense
Blame everyone else but me for this mess
And my back has been breaking from this heavy heart
We never seemed so far
I'm hopelessly hopeless, you're just hopeless enough
But we never had it at all"
Patrick took the paper from Pete as he entered the living room where the entire band sat, watching some made for TV movie. His eyes skimmed over the paper quickly, and then started to read it out loud.
"Andy, Joe, listen to this..." the two turned towards where Patrick sat on the armchair and where Pete stood, arms crossed, biting his lip nervously. "It's amazing..." he started.
"And the record won't stop skipping
and the lies just won't stop slipping
And besides my reputation's on the line
we can fake it for the airwaves
Force our smiles, baby, half dead
from comparing myself to everyone else around me"
"Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "just friends"
We are the kids who feel like dead ends
And I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses
I took a shot and didn't even come close
At trust and love and hope
And the poets are just kids who didn't make it
who never had it at all"
Pete looked down at the words he was writing and sighed.
Oh so emo...
Smiling at his own thoughts he leaned back and listened as the CD he was listening to play.
I wonder how this will turn out...
Suddenly the song started to skip and Pete looked over annoyed as Patrick sighed, stopping it and putting something new in.
"Damned record won't stop skipping," he mumbled and Pete removed his hands from behind his head, sitting up and staring at Patrick.
"What?" he asked, holding the previous CD.
"What did you just say?" he asked and Patrick shifted his eyes, nervously.
"The record won't stop skipping?" he more asked and Pete slightly opened his mouth, thinking about that line.
"The record won't stop skipping...and..." he paused.
"The best part of believe is the lie, Peter Wentz,"
Pete widened his eyes, in discovery.
"The record won't stop skipping, and the lies just won't stop slipping," he spoke and Patrick developed a wide smile.
"Perfect...you're welcome," he muttered and walked back into the living room. Pete was at Patrick's house, as he didn't want to be too close to Lizzie's house.
"And the record won't stop skipping
and the lies just won't stop slipping
And besides my reputation's on the line
we can fake it for the airwaves
Force our smiles, baby, half dead
from comparing myself to everyone else around me"
Pete looked back at his sloppy handwriting, happy with the way this song was going. He let his eyes drift away from the desk and out the window, where he could faintly see the giant cork tree in his neighborhood. Sighing he looked back down at the paper. Pete still felt the pain of losing Lizzie, but he really didn't want to give up like he did last time. With each breath that he took, his heart went with it, heavy, hurting his back.
"This is going to be one hell of a song..." he muttered to himself and picked up the pen again.
"Please put the doctor on the phone because I'm not making any sense
Blame everyone else but me for this mess
And my back has been breaking from this heavy heart
We never seemed so far
I'm hopelessly hopeless, you're just hopeless enough
But we never had it at all"
Patrick took the paper from Pete as he entered the living room where the entire band sat, watching some made for TV movie. His eyes skimmed over the paper quickly, and then started to read it out loud.
"Andy, Joe, listen to this..." the two turned towards where Patrick sat on the armchair and where Pete stood, arms crossed, biting his lip nervously. "It's amazing..." he started.
"And the record won't stop skipping
and the lies just won't stop slipping
And besides my reputation's on the line
we can fake it for the airwaves
Force our smiles, baby, half dead
from comparing myself to everyone else around me"
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