在手机上保存，获得更好体验
Two in the morning, phone starts to ring
She sends a link to some Japanese thing
Title is heavy,"Ending it All"
While she’s sipping latte, having a ball
Don't feel the beauty, don't feel the art
Just need a player to play out the part
Five-worded badge for a mid-life career
Taxes and laundry feel like King Lear
Knowing it's high-end in circles of taste
Wearing the prestige like belt at the waist
Skipping the content, just grabbing the name
Copy-paste title, then drown in the fake
Trading in sorrow, broker of gold
Five-minute story already sold
Don't need the verses, don't need the pain
Premium sticker to hide from the rain
Showroom-style sadness, soul on the shelf
Painting the mirrors to fool her own self
Faking the deep end, dipping the toes
Winning the Oscar for songs she don't know
Skipping the process, grabbing the prize
High-culture filter for ordinary eyes
Short-cut to wisdom, V-LOOK-UP grace
Labeling spirit all over the face
Trading in sorrow, broker of gold
Five-minute story already sold
Don't need the verses, don't need the pain
Premium sticker to hide from the rain
Showroom-style sadness, soul on the shelf
Painting the mirrors to fool her own self
Faking the deep end, dipping the toes
Winning the Oscar for songs she don't know
White moonlight fading, turning to grey
Hunting for next elite labels today
Bought the whole trophy, didn't win race
High-classy mask on a common-sense face
Selling the sadness, skipping the lines
Looking so artsy in her own designs
(But did you check the lyrics?)
Just keep the title, forget the foundation.
