Chronicles of an American Beauty and an American Psycho

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen)

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen)

 

It had been an hour since band practice was supposed to start, and Pete still hadn’t showed up. Andy was sitting in a corner reading a comic book, Joe was tinkering with his guitar, and Patrick was pacing around the room.

 

“Pete has to show up soon,” Patrick grumbled.

 

“We should just start without him,” Joe suggested.

 

“No!” Patrick shouted. “Speaking of which, have either of you seen him recently?”

 

Joe and Andy both shook their heads. “I got some lyrics from him last week, but that’s about it,” Joe said.

 

“I wonder where he is,” Patrick said.

 

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Joe said. “I have an idea though. Let’s have a pizza party. Pete will be so mad that he missed this.”

 

“Or maybe he’ll find us just because of the pizza,” Patrick joked.

 

“Pete Wentz. A rare subspecies of human, known for obsessing over bass guitars and pizza, making this his natural habitat,” Andy said.

 

Patrick and Joe laughed. Joe walked over to his computer and checked his email. “I got something from Pete,” he said. Patrick and Andy hurried over to the computer to see what Pete sent.

 

"7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen)"

 

I'm sleeping my way out of this one

With anyone who will lie down

I'll be stuck fixated on one star

When the world is crashing down

 

I keep telling myself

I keep telling myself

I'm not the desperate type

But you've got me looking in through blinds

I keep telling myself

I keep telling myself

I'm not the desperate type

 

I’m sitting out dances on the wall

Trying to forget everything that isn't you

I'm not going home alone

Cause I don't do too well on my own

I’m sitting out dances on the wall

Trying to forget everything that isn't you

I'm not going home alone

Cause I don't do too well on my own

 

The only thing worse than not knowing

Is you thinking that I don't know