Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.
(Hit the Road Jack - Ray Charles.)

They taped over your mouth, scribbled out the truth with their lies. Your little spies.
(Crushcrushcrush by Paramore)

Festival do chocolate. 2

1.

Last night what we talked about, it made so much sense. But now the haze has ascended, it don't make no sense anymore. (From the ritz to the rubble by Arctic Monkeys)