|
We got it on that way |
|
We'd do anything to stay |
|
And keep your money boys |
|
Made of silver and gold |
|
And keep your pekingese, Turkish cigarettes |
|
And your lighter that looks like a gun |
|
So you marry your daddy |
|
With a different name |
|
That's sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
That pretty man of yours |
|
The one hiding inside the director's clothes |
|
The one who calls you dear |
|
After banging away at you in the night |
|
That one's just got to go |
|
Every time you look at him |
|
You could almost fall asleep |
|
And there's a masturbating |
|
Getting underneath your belt |
|
That's sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
And now you tell the maid |
|
To burn you on your virgin back |
|
With a curling iron |
|
Hotter than hot |
|
You say it's good enough |
|
You say it's good enough |
|
You say it's good enough |
|
You say your pain is better |
|
Than any kind of love |
|
That's sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |
|
Sex and dying in high society |