hey little party girl where do you wanna go i didn't come from your scene so many people i should know like every door guy in this city only lets you in cuz you're pretty and the boutique girls and theme night druggies take you in the back (you put your head on the mirror) maybe threes a gas station open and a little money on my card so i can buy some half and half 'cause even mornings they seem so hard and look at you, you never fell to bed you're still typing on your phone with your cigarette saying i should stop being so cynical we're hotter when we don't give a damn (so smash your head on the mirror) and ooooh baby baby baby keeps it with her ooh baby baby, babies got a purse full of things she calls excuses Yeah you're real pretty pretty you're pretty strung out for a girl