Becky come on, let’s go
The money is getting low
And all of our friends went missing
Kissing in kitchens
Learning their lines

The lying doorman takes his plan
The bruiser bounce makes his stand
The hussies in black are blinking
With fluttering eyelids drinking

Home of the scenester boys
Jelly head bitches making bad noise
Drinking their soda rum
With nothing to say they come
Trying to convince you
That they know something that you don’t know

If it’s not about the money
Let’s find out what it’s for
I’m calling in the expert

The speechless appraiser dances
Sharp as a razor
He gives the answer
And just as I suspect you’ve got nothing
What could I expect?
You’ve got nothing to say

┬ęCopyright Secret Life of Painters
Words & music by Hofmann / Kiley