Panic At The Disco The Ballad of Mona Lisa

She paints her fingers with a close precision He starts to notice empty bottles of gin And takes a moment to assess the sin She s paid for A lone 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 wanna believe Oh, Mona Lisa You re guaranteed to run this town Oh, Mona Lisa I d pay to see you frown