I grabbed a guitar and sat on the living room floor. “Alright, motherfucker. You want a happy summertime song? Here you go.” I wrote the first thing that popped into my head out of pure spite. The catchiest tune I could think of, about falling in love with a girl at the Warped Tour. Call it “The Rock Show.” Perfect. Done. There’s your fun-time song. Fuck you. Apparently Tom had the exact same reaction, because he went home that night and wrote his own take-your-criticism-and-shove-it-up-your-ass song called “First Date” about a . . . well, the title pretty much sums it up. In a way, those two
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