_FANGlRLS_ got the ninth song.
She paints her fingers with a closed precision
He starts to notice empty bottles of gin
And takes a moment to assess the sins she's paid for
A lonely speaker in a conversation
Her words are swimming through his ears again
There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for
Say what you mean
Tell me I'm right
And let the sun rain down on me
Give me a sign
I want to believe
Whoa, Mona Lisa
You're guaranteed to run this town
Whoa, Mona Lisa
I'd pay to see you frown
