Текст песни House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls – The Weeknd

Оригинальный текст песни House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls – The Weeknd

[Verse 1:]

Been on another level

Since you came

No more pain.

Look into my eyes,

You can't recognize my face.

You're my beloved,

You can stay,

You can stay.

But you belong to me,

You belong to me.

[Chorus:]

If it hurts to breathe,

Open the window.

Oh, your mind wants to leave,

But you can't go.

This is a happy house,

We're happy here

In a happy house.

Oh, this is fun,

Fun. [x11]

[Verse 2:]

Music got you lost,

Nights ends so much quicker than the days did,

Same clothes, you ain't ready for your day shift.

This place will burn you up,

But, baby, it's okay and my n**gas next door,

They working in the trap,

So get louder if you want.

Don't blame it on me

That you didn't call your home,

So don't blame it on me, girl

'Cause you wanted to have fun.

[Chorus]

Bring the 707 out. [x6]

Two puffs for the lady who be down for that,

Whatever, together.

Bring your own stash of the greatest, trade it,

Roll a dub, burn a dub, cough a dub, taste it,

Now watch us chase it

With a handful of pills, no chasers.

Jaw clenching on some super-sized papers,

And she bad in a head band,

Escaping, her van is a Wonderland.

And it's half-past six,

Read stars 'cause time don't exist.

But when the stars shine back to the crib,

Superstar lines back at the crib,

And we can test out the tables.

Got some brand new tables,

All glass and it's four feet wide

But it's a must to get us ten feet high.

She give me sex in a handbag,

I got her wetter than a wet nap,

And no closed doors

So I listen to her moans echo.

"I heard he do drugs now".

You heard wrong, I been on them for a minute,

We just never act a fool,

That's just how we fuckin' living.

And when we act a fool,

It's probably 'cause we mixed it.

Yeah, I'm always on that okey-dokey,

Them white boys know the deal,

Ain't no fuckin' phony.

Big O know the deal,

He the one who showed me.

Watch me ride this fuckin' beat,

Like he fuckin' told me.

"Is that your girl, what's her fucking story?"

"She kinda bad but she ride it like a fucking pony".

I cut down on her man,

Be her fuckin' story.

Yeah, I'm talking 'bout you, man,

Get to know me,

Ain't no offense, though,

I promise you.

If you a real man, dude, you gon' decide the truth,

But I'm a nice dude with some nice dreams,

And we could turn this to a nightmare: Elm Street.

La la la la la la la la,

I'm so gone, so gone,

Bring out the glass tables,

Bring the 707 out. [x4]