I finally understand, Billie Joe. About the whole waking-up thing at the end of the month. It's about the mid-terms, isn't it? Yes, time to wake up, fellas. About time.
Let me introduce to you the Individual Physical Deficiency Test. To calculate your unfitness index, enrol yourself to play for the erm, underdog team in a basketball tournament. In your first match, take (turnovers)+(no. of aching body parts)+(times you got elbowed in the face)-(points)-(rebounds)-(minutes played/40). Don't forget to take a few glasses of wine the night before the match.
Sent Mr. Hazmat off to the crazy-ass-place called London. Should've brought along your gas mask, I tell you. It would be interesting enough to just station yourself at the departure gate just to spot familiar faces. Faces with red eyes, no less. If it wasn't for farewells, I probably wouldn't have understood what home stands for (Home plays in the background, now). Take care and go easy on the curry, my friend.
Listen to Yellowcard's Back Home. You know five people are playing the same song, because the song means the same thing to them. I think that's what's missing in the music.
I need help. I have no idea why I bought a box of Staedtler Triplus Fineliner pens. I'm smiling as I look at it now, though. I need help.
I know we all know that school's a bitch, but now I know that school's the bitch. A sly, red-eyed, evil-eyed, throat-cutting, ass-scraping, heretic, lawless, depressing, son-of-a-baboony piece of lemon oozing with green pus. I've taken my first bite. Who wants to know?
I feel the urge to walk down Thomas Street once more. Just to test my faith. But I don't know if I even know how to get there anymore.
Let me introduce to you the Individual Physical Deficiency Test. To calculate your unfitness index, enrol yourself to play for the erm, underdog team in a basketball tournament. In your first match, take (turnovers)+(no. of aching body parts)+(times you got elbowed in the face)-(points)-(rebounds)-(minutes played/40). Don't forget to take a few glasses of wine the night before the match.
Sent Mr. Hazmat off to the crazy-ass-place called London. Should've brought along your gas mask, I tell you. It would be interesting enough to just station yourself at the departure gate just to spot familiar faces. Faces with red eyes, no less. If it wasn't for farewells, I probably wouldn't have understood what home stands for (Home plays in the background, now). Take care and go easy on the curry, my friend.
Listen to Yellowcard's Back Home. You know five people are playing the same song, because the song means the same thing to them. I think that's what's missing in the music.
I need help. I have no idea why I bought a box of Staedtler Triplus Fineliner pens. I'm smiling as I look at it now, though. I need help.
I know we all know that school's a bitch, but now I know that school's the bitch. A sly, red-eyed, evil-eyed, throat-cutting, ass-scraping, heretic, lawless, depressing, son-of-a-baboony piece of lemon oozing with green pus. I've taken my first bite. Who wants to know?
I feel the urge to walk down Thomas Street once more. Just to test my faith. But I don't know if I even know how to get there anymore.
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