Step-dad: Guys we gotta go!
My Mind: Gotta go, gotta go! Gotta get the job done, gotta start a new nation gotta meet my son!
Me (to my brain): STOP! I know! This happens every single time!
My Mind: tAKE THE BULLETS OUT YOUR GUN! THE BULLETS OUT YOUR GUN!
Me (to my brain): PLEASE STOP! I know! I love this song! But not every time!
My Mind: WE MOVE UNDERCOVER AND WE MOVE AS ONE!!!!
Me (out loud): THROUGH THE NIGHT WE HAVE ONE SHOT TO LIVE ANOTHER DAY!!!!
My Mind: Gotcha!