Some nights it feels like we're holding the whole city up single-handedly and I can't keep track of all the second year drama, all the kids shooting lusty looks over busy bars and no one ever follows through. The boys are far too eager to prove they've got their own homes to go to, and I understand all about making yourself believe in things you know to be untrue - like the idea that you would ever want to be even slightly close to me isn't just ridiculous, it's obscene. Me and Matt are loose cannons on a field of horsemen, me and Matt are loose cannons rampant on a field, and we're always trying to move our teams on to the dancelfoors but they're always headed outdoors to smoke more, so now I'm tearing open wounds in toilet cubicles, I tell everyone I'm dying from the entertainment but I need Holly's hugs just to hold myself up and I've never felt more corpselike. I have lied for entire nights, with smiling eyes I've lied and lied. I'm the you they get when they can't get you. (I am second hand you, I'm a lesser man's you) I have tried for my whole life not to tell a single lie but it seems I'm always going to need to hold something back.

Everyone dreams of big dark moments in locked bathrooms at house parties, but most nights all we get is the vague warmth of a mild buzz, hard won hugs and an easily friendly love. On the best nights you hold your head above the highest point in the whole halogen city and you see the world as tessellated confetti, as the back cover of Boys and Girls in America, as the end credits of every teen movie and you feel like 45 minutes of fireworks set off in just 5 seconds - it knocks all the air from your body but it feels fucking incredible. You're playing table football in a drunk half light that does us all a lot of favours although you don't need them. One by one I add the rooms in your house to my map of the world and name my daughters after distant friends who never knew quite how much they meant. I'm finally won over by straight spirits in plastic cups, maybe I'm young or maybe London's always a headfuck and it's even weirder without Matt or Nick to back me up about the sheer screaming stupidity of the moves this guy on the elevated decks is pulling. But it's working, so whatever. Meanwhile the suburbs swallow nights that could've been so fucking sweet if we'd just been given a city. If we'd only had some sugar and noise instead of dark parks and loveless boys. Bathe me in vodka and glitter, reduce me to whatever you need. Make whatever you want to see. Sometimes giving in feels better and I want to be what you want me to be. Pull back! And we'd like it if there was dancing. And we'd like if it someone did a liquor run. And we'd like it if this kept going through to six or seven. And I'd like it if we all stuck together on this one. There's a little stupid truth in every single track, if when I die I go to somewhere else I want you to bring me back.

This year we go to war. With hoods up and zips down we will make it through this.

I was born afraid of the world And twenty years of bad ideas have only taught me one thing worth repeating and that's this: acoustic versions almost always suck. Lift yr emo fists and sing a self fulfilling prophecy, a song of weak success and strong defeat, and sing it right back at me, because more than anyone else in this room, I desperately wildly need to believe what we're doing right now has some value, that what we're doing now is doing something for you, to you. I'm sorry but PMA is bullshit, bad things are just going to happen to you, but don't get me wrong I love the straight edge kids as much as anyone, and lord, Leicester knows I spent my teenage years self righteous and sober and if absolute abstinence works for you then that's fine but I honestly think that drinking might have saved my so-called social life. And when I talk I'm mostly talking to myself, I'm not very good at understanding anybody else but in the right low light I can fake moves to make you feel like you're sharing something special with a sensitive sentient human being, oh I'm the worst. Between the t-shirts and the swear words, we almost figured out who we were, between the lust and the rage, we aim to leave more blood on stage, I'm going down, I'm giving up, this is all I've got, I've never been able to believe in a love that's unconfirmed by a lingering touch, this is all I've got, somebody touch me. God give me a sweat-soaked pulpit, god give me a basement and I swear I'd fill it. And all our phone calls and all our songs end the same way they end "Woah-oh-oh".

[Instrumental]