Pete Wentz
Pete Wentz
Peter Lewis Kingston "Pete" Wentz III, is an American musician best known for being the bassist, primary lyricist and backing vocalist for the American rock band Fall Out Boy. Before Fall Out Boy's inception in 2001, Wentz was a fixture of the Chicago hardcore scene and was notably the lead vocalist and lyricist for Arma Angelus. During Fall Out Boy's temporary hiatus in 2009–12, Wentz formed the experimental, electropop and dubstep group Black Cards. He owns a record label, DCD2...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionBassist
Date of Birth5 June 1979
CityWilmette, IL
CountryUnited States of America
He felt homesick for places he had never been. He missed hearts he had never loved.
Emo is over, you can all go home now
It wasn’t me! Look at how little I am. I’m a little guy.
There was a fence and there was this other van- So I go, 'Fence or van? Cause I'm crashing into one of them,' and I said 'Fence,' so I hit the fence and bounced into the van
Long live the car crash hearts Cry on the couch all the poets come to life Fix me in 45
But you couldn’t touch this kid right now, bullets would have dodged him.
He hugged her tight, mixing their tears to be bottled and fermented, so they could be drunk on each other when this was all over.
there’s really nowhere else I can go, and even if there were, it wouldn’t make a difference because I’d just be running from myself, and you can’t do that no matter how hard you try, and trying hard is what got you in this predicament in the first place.
But our love isn’t easy because it’s not meant to be. It requires work and sacrifice and protection. And I wouldn’t want it any other way, not right now, with the morning sun making the curtains glow and Her arms around my neck and the sounds of the street so far away. I’m in it for the long haul, I’m not going away.
This is how your heart gets snagged, like a balloon on a barbed-wire fence, this is where pieces of you get torn away.
I want so badly to tell Her it’s going to be all right, that I’ll leave the band and forget this silly crusade. I want to tell Her that I am ready to settle for this life, that she is all I will ever need in the world, and that we’ll never be apart. I want to tell Her that I will protect Her forever. But none of that would be the truth. So I don’t say anything at all.
There she is, lying in front of me, smoking a cigarette, thinking of something or someone else. And that’s how she is stuck in my mind forever. We are two explorers in the dark. Mapless and hopeless. Alone together.
We are symbolic. We are driving to the edge of the city and talking in vague-yet-resolute certainties about our dreams and our futures. We are leaving certain things in the medicine cabinet. We are falling in love.
The silence is the worst part of any fight, because it's made up of all the things we wish we could say, if only we had the guts.