Chequeless Reckless

A sellout
Is someone who becomes a hypocrite
In the name of money
An idiot
Is someone who lets their education
Do all of their thinking

A phoney
Is someone who demands respect
For the principles they affect
A dilettante
Is someone who can't tell the difference
Between fashion and style

Charisma
Is exquisite manipulation
And money is the sandpit of the soul
Money
Is the sandpit of the soul
Money
Is the sandpit of the soul
Money
Is the sandpit of the soul

Taylor dreams of having it all
She documents an essence
In the bathroom stall
And empty chairs mask an empty occasion
The empty glass is ringing

All across the nation
All across the nation
All across the nation
All across the nation

Well the suits are running
And it won't be long
Until the blues cop
What's really going on
I said the suits are running
And it won't be long
Until the blues cop
What's really going on

What's really going on
What's really going on
What's really going on
What's really going

What's really going on
What's really going on
What's really going on
What's really going

What's really going on
What's really going on
What's really going on



Credits
Writer(s): Carlos Ramos O Connell, Thomas Patrick Coll, Grian Alexander Chatten, Conor Patrick Curley, Conor Patrick Deegan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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