[Intro]
[Verse 1]
Sip espresso in a vintage coat,
Name-drop Kierkegaard to float a quote,
Mirrored shades reflect the crowd’s dull glow,
You’re a paperback in a leather studio.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re too clever for the room tonight,
Dance in monochrome, it’s *so* contrite,
Name a song that’s never been composed,
We’re the punchline no one’s supposed to know.
[Verse 2]
Art films loop where the plot’s implied,
Your mixtape’s a dirge for bourgeois pride,
Laugh at norms, but your boots are mass-produced,
A paradox you’ve meticulously reduced.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re too clever for the room tonight,
Dance in monochrome, it’s *so* contrite,
Name a song that’s never been composed,
We’re the punchline no one’s supposed to know.
[Bridge]
Abstract nouns in a concrete loft,
Debate the death of paint while the critics cough,
Name a Warhol, then dismiss his frame,
It’s all a game where the rules are lame.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re too clever for the room tonight,
Dance in monochrome, it’s *so* contrite,
Name a song that’s never been composed,
We’re the punchline no one’s supposed to know.
[Outro]
