Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > You Can Sing Until Your Tonsils Bleed, Babe, 'Cause I'm Not Listening

Chapter 3

by Blood_Red_Summer 2 reviews

YAY! PLEASE REVIEW AND MORE IMPORTANTLY RATE FOR THE LOVE OF PATRICK STUMP'S COLLECTION OF HATS! and yes, these are my own lyrics, please don't take them but tell me how sucky and repulsive you fin...

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Published: 2006-11-01 - Updated: 2006-11-02 - 467 words


I asked Fox and her siblings about their band. Where did they get their name from, who came up with the music and lyrics, did everyone get along?

"Okay Pete, that's enough coffee," Fox played along and grabbed my cup and took a sip. She got a cup of black coffee and I got a tall vanilla latte. "Well, we got our name from one of my favorite books, Flowers in the Attic, and it fit because we're siblings, and the girls are named after flowers, but there's no incest, which is the reaction we get a lot. But just because we get negative publicity because of our name, it's just going to fuel our need to stand alone and separate from the other shows, you know?" Did I ever. Standing out is what I live for. "And we all collaborate on the lyrics. Blood writes the really heart wrenching words, and I write the music for it. If we want a humorous song we turn to Teak and Honey. Linden is for serious, thought-provoking lyrics, and I'm responsible for the ones that tell stories. The only exception was when I was in a bit of a funk and wrote "Serenade Me Your Lies", which is what we closed on tonight. With Blood's help I was able to make it really dark."

"You wrote that?" Patrick asked. She nodded and looked around to the other empty couches. The only person in the coffee shop besides us was the worker, and she had her feet propped up on the counter reading "Seventeen" magazine. Fox bolted out the door and came back a minute later with a guitar case. She opened it and took out her black acoustic with a zebra print strap. I guess that that's her favorite print. I noticed earlier on her electric that she has a pink strap with Kanji and anime all over it. She took a small pouch out of her case and slid a few finger picks on and strummed out a mournful tune that was similar to the one on stage. She sang softly, reminding you of a funeral service.

"I hope you die in your sleep,
your red blood on her white sheets.
When you wake up to the morning bright,
She will be with you, by your side,
If only for a little...while."

The strumming got more violent and the fingering faster. She sang through the rest with a touch of pain in her voice, as though she'd been through what she was describing. When she was done, my coffee was cold and I was staring at her.

"What?" she asked nervously.

"That was amazing. Wow. I couldn't have written it better myself." She laughed.

"That's quite a compliment for me coming from Pete Wentz. Really."
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