Mosh.

Broken hearts & broken bones.
Feedback and dark, low tones.
Lighters held up alongside cellphones.
Screams and songs and whines and moans.

This will make us,
This will break us.
The mosh pit will break our bones.
The microphone tells us we're not alone.

Sing along and jump around.
The vocals soft, the guitar loud.
The bass strums, the drums pound.
The amps and speakers blast the sound.

This will make us,
This will break us.
The mosh pit will break our hearts.
The microphone's feedback before the music starts.

We slow dance to an emo song.
You know we're right, and they're all wrong.
It's music, it's been music all along.
We step in time through the throng.

This will make us,
This will break us.
The mosh pit will tear us apart.
The microphone amplifies the stopped beating of my heart.