The Met

Okay, Nick you're now inside a

Secret small apartment up in Sugarhill

My sister Myrtle said you were a ten. You're a four

When Tom and Myrtle got here

They went straight into the bedroom

And they're in there still

These are the McKees. They like to watch!

So I'm stuck makin' small talk

While they **** a few feet away

Smilin' at strangers

Who all look at me like I'm their prey

I close my eyes but all I see

Is the glowing face of Daisy Fay

Mr. McKee has taken two hundred and twenty seven photographs of me

Two-twenty eight

I never should have come here

As my palms begin to sweat

I need a dose of culture

And I need a cigarette

Oh, they really

Should've dropped me

At The Met

I'm not drinkin'

I'm not drinkin' alone

Love the dress. Love!

This crazy old thing? I just slip it on when I don't really care what I look like

The tag's still on it

I said just one drink but if I lowball it I'm guessin'

This is number three

Bedroom's free if you wanna shake the sheets with Catherine

All that I can think of is that ill-considered favor

Gatsby asked of me

In the bedroom lighting, I'm an eight

When I got here

I should've said I wouldn't be stayin' long

Everyone is flirtin' now

And they're all comin' on too strong

At least the Midwest blessed me

With a stellar sense of right and wrong

Mrs. McKee and I have an open relationship. She has sex with other people, and I'm open to it

I need a cup of coffee

As the sun begins to set

They sang "Ain't We Got Fun?" so loud

It's sounding like a threat

Oh, they really

Should've dropped me

At The Met

Jay Gatsby? The millionaire on Long Island? He's a five

But would you go to tea with him?

No, but only because tea makes me vomit

I'd love to do more work on Long Island, if I could gain entry

People disappear and reappear

And then they lose each other in the fray

Do you like polo ponies?

Tom!

They search for each other

And are reunited only a few feet away

That's my sister!

Oh, relax, Myrtle

There's a flash and a crash

Over the oversized furniture

I look around for Catherine

And I find that I'm on top of her

And all of this is captured

By the greedy-eyed photographer

I want to capture your musk

Who stalks me like a vulture

Here's a night I'll soon regret

She's got another bottle

So this isn't over yet

Oh, they really

Should've dropped me

At The Met

Don't you treat me that way! Don't you flirt with my sister!

Cool it, Myrtle!

Would you do that to Daisy, huh?

You don't mention Daisy!

Oh, why not. You take shots at George every chance you can get, but Daisy is off limits?

I'm warning you. Myrtle!

Daisy, Daisy, Daisy. I'll say it whenever I want. Daisy!

You broke my nose! You broke my nose!

You broke my sister's nose!

It was an accident

Don't touch her!

Don't you touch me, I'll call the cops!

If I wondered whether Tom's an asshole

Tom's an asshole, he removed all doubt

And Gatsby's proposition is the only thing

My spinning mind can think about

I just sink in a sofa as the night grows more dim

God, what a coward

Should have torn the bastard limb from limb

But maybe there's another way

That I can still get back at him

Yes. Please connect me with Jay Gatsby