Step-dad: Guys we gotta go!

My Mind: Gotta go, gotta go! Gotta get the job done, gotta start a new nation gotta meet my son!

Me (to my brain): STOP! I know! This happens every single time!

My Mind: tAKE  THE BULLETS OUT  YOUR  GUN!  THE BULLETS OUT YOUR GUN!

Me (to my brain): PLEASE STOP! I know! I love this song! But not every time! 

My Mind: WE MOVE UNDERCOVER AND WE MOVE AS ONE!!!!

Me (out loud): THROUGH THE NIGHT WE HAVE ONE SHOT TO LIVE ANOTHER DAY!!!!

My Mind: Gotcha!