We are the doldrums misfits, that listen to the hymns of our pain
We are the heart-broken, car crashed hearts with barbed wire around our emotional spectrum
It’s all depression
We are the ring bearers of this loneliness, the best man of these secrets, the ticket takers for this never sold out concert
We are the Young Wild Things Children
We are Fall Out Boy’s fans, Their inspired spectators, holding the cd’s and t-shirts of their empire
We are the dedicated teenagers, with dark circles under our eyes from looking at the glowing Ipod screens for hours replaying the same songs of therapy

They are the leaders
They are the uprising pioneers of punk
They are the head banging, ear shattering, heart throbbing musicians
They are the models for misfortune, producers of poverty, selling out platinum records
With the hit singles girls scream over, and jealous boyfriends sing in their ringing ears
They are not the imposters? They are not posers?
They are the Constitutional Congress of Teen Angst
They are Fall Out Boy

“ I am the hit maker.”
“ I am the fortune worth punk zombie role model.”
“ I am the underdog drop out, with a life cut out from songs about my ex-girlfriends, and a retirement from the teardrops.”
“ I am a heart throb, picking up desperate teenage hearts and rolling over them with my plastic-made tabloid girlfriend‘s year contract with Covergirl”
“ I am on the tour bus, after a concert night, with my ears ringing and a lonely bar drink sweating in the cup holder.”
“ I am a rock star. An emotional wreck for this world.
“I am a genius, a musician.”








“I am a member of the punk rock perception.”

We Are, They Are, I Am Fall Out Boy.