you remind me of home

So I was wondering... Exactly how hard would it be to turn out bullshit song lyrics like Pete Wentz?

Apparently not very.


My heart is a set of sliding subway doors:
You only have until the third chime to get on before I shut you out
(Feel free to get off anytime)
And I’ve been staring at the yellow line on the platform wanting to jump
But my timing’s all off. My timing’s all off.
I am the underground
You’ve got skyscrapers in your eyes and they claw at the clouds
Like you claw through my veins
Your legs are the only highway I’ve ever wanted to travel
But I’m afraid there’s congestion in the collector lanes



P.S. Hey Patrick, I think you should hire me to replace Wentz. I can't play the bass for shit, but at least I'm sane.

P.P.S. I win! It took me literally 2 minutes to write this. (Thank God it wasn't more or my brain may have fallen to mush.)

P.P.P.S. I dare you to try it yourself. I'm talking to you, f-list!

(Come on, guys. It’s kind of like a paint by numbers, really. Or a simple recipe:
- 1 cup of pining obsessively over a lover who doesn’t want you and/or you don’t want either (so HA!)
- 5 tablespoons of cocksure egotism
- 3 ounces of ridiculous and ambiguous metaphors
- 1 and 1/2 teaspoons of creepy, creepy sex
- Half a dozen broken hearts, applied liberally
- A pinch of misogyny
- 2 full quarts of pure and unfiltered ~emo
Mix thoroughly and bake until steaming, and voila! You too can write songs as god-awful as Pete!)