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Young Writers Society


TakeThatYouFiend


About TakeThatYouFiend

I don't know what to put here so here are all all the lyrics to "We Don't Believe What's on T.V." by Twenty Øne Pilots.

"We don't believe what's on TV,
Because it's what we want to see,
And what we want, we know we can't believe,
We have all learned to kill our dreams.

I need to know that when I fail you'll still be here,
'Cause if you stick around I'll sing you pretty sounds,
And we'll make money selling your hair.

I don't care what's in your hair,
I just want to know what's on your mind,
I used to say, "I want to die before I'm old,"
But because of you I might think twice.

Alright, second verse

What if my dream does not happen,
Would I just change what I've told my friends,
I don't want to know who I would be,
When I wake up from a dreamer's sleep.

I need to know that when I fail you'll still be here,
'Cause if you stick around I'll sing you pretty sounds,
And we'll make money selling your hair.

But I don't care what's in your hair,
I just want to know what's on your mind,
I used to say, "I want to die before I'm old,"
But because of you I might think twice.

I don't care what's in your hair,
I just want to know what's on your mind,
I used to say, "I want to die before I'm old,"
But because of you I might think twice."


Interests

Talk to me to find out, but Doctor Who, music of many genres and mashed potatoes all rank pretty high.

Occupation

Well, I get money from busking, so that I guess.

Website

https://www.instagram.com/takethatyoufiend/


It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien