Relatively Well Dressed
Sitting in the corner of the bar
And the neon beer sign up above your head flickers on
Like a bright idea just popped into your dirty, dirty mind
Small talk- can't call me like a dog
Hey, Mr. Rolex-And-Casmere-Sweater,
I hope you got dressed for the cold, cold weather
Oh you're rich, but your talk is cheap
And it's not gonna work, gonna work on me
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Here comes Brandon, Bartender to ask me if there's anything I want
And I just want this man to leave me alone
The more uncomfortable he gets, the more he checks his watch
I'm hoping that it's time he goes home
I'd say I like the color of your Oxford suit
But I hate to say I like a single thing about you
And oh you're rich, but your talk is cheap
And it's not gonna work, gonna work on me
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Hey, Mr. Rolex-And-Casmere-Sweater,
I hope you got dressed for the cold, cold weather
I'd say I like the color of your Oxford suit
But I hate to say I like a single thing about you
And oh you're rich, but your talk is cheap
And it's not gonna work, gonna work on me
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
And the neon beer sign up above your head flickers on
Like a bright idea just popped into your dirty, dirty mind
Small talk- can't call me like a dog
Hey, Mr. Rolex-And-Casmere-Sweater,
I hope you got dressed for the cold, cold weather
Oh you're rich, but your talk is cheap
And it's not gonna work, gonna work on me
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Here comes Brandon, Bartender to ask me if there's anything I want
And I just want this man to leave me alone
The more uncomfortable he gets, the more he checks his watch
I'm hoping that it's time he goes home
I'd say I like the color of your Oxford suit
But I hate to say I like a single thing about you
And oh you're rich, but your talk is cheap
And it's not gonna work, gonna work on me
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Hey, Mr. Rolex-And-Casmere-Sweater,
I hope you got dressed for the cold, cold weather
I'd say I like the color of your Oxford suit
But I hate to say I like a single thing about you
And oh you're rich, but your talk is cheap
And it's not gonna work, gonna work on me
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
You might be relatively well dressed
You got your pants pressed
It doesn't mean you're ever getting into mine
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Keep those bloodshot baby blues to yourself now
Credits
Writer(s): Patrick Stump, Lauren Pritchard, Jacob Scott Sinclair
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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