Pitted

In the end you'll find me hanging out That second-story window At that end-of-the-world-party I was drinking gold at I had a toga on, it was embarassing Why didn't anybody warn me about The dangers of playing "I have never" with prosecco Something's definitely bubbling up Those nights when I'd rather stay at home But I make it out the door And there's that one song on, I hope for Queen B But I can fake it to Bohemian Rhapsody Dressed all black, bitching on the kitchen counter In the corner with my girls Playing "marry, fuck, kill" with every actor That's ever played James Bond And we'll dance like our dads Doing our Hotline Bling thing God it's embarassing, God we're embarassing And then the room it starts to spin Those nights when I'd rather stay home But I make it out the door And there's that one song on, I hope for Queen B But I can fake it to Bohemian Rhapsody Those nights when I'd rather stay home But I make it out the door And there's that one song on, I hope for Bowie But I can fake it to Bohemian Rhapsody Those nights when I'd rather stay home But I make it out the door And there's that one song on, I hope for Queen B But I can fake it to Bohemian Rhapsody Those nights when I'd rather stay home But there's that one song on, I hope for Queen B And I can fake it to Bohemian Rhapsody But I'd rather stay home But I'd rather stay home