So there's about 30 of us sitting on the grass, all off our faces on poppers and booze and denial of reality, and some douchebag's playing motown songs on a blood-stained guitar, and everyone loves him, but the sun's coming up and the beer's running out and no one wants to go home tomorrow because #life awaits, and no one wants the douchebag to run out of songs because that would be it, the end, but it's been hours now, his voice is failing, there isn't anything left, so he says he's done and then no one loves me anymore.
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