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