Chuck Bass
free cake! free cake! no cake no cake
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Escapism
you're my only hope
at the drop of a hat
i am gone
And all the old punks
writing catchy tunes
about friendship
while they talk trash
about each other
behind their backs
they're beyond reproach
they've accomplished too much
I'm fed up to the back teeth
i'm gonna leave this elitist picnic
People change like seasons
and winter is no friend
it seems pathetic but this is how it goes
it seems pathetic but this is how it goes