The Ballad Of Mona Lisa

• Panic! At The Disco
• Vices & Virtues

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 lonely speaker in a conversation

Her words are swimming through his ears again

There’s nothing wrong with just a taste of what you 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

Whoa, Mona Lisa

You’re guaranteed to run this town

Whoa, Mona Lisa

I’d pay to see you frown

He senses something, call it desperation

Another dollar, another day

And if she had the proper words to say, she would tell him

But she’d have nothing left to sell him

Mona Lisa

Wear me out

I’m pleased to please ya

Mona Lisa

Wear me out

There’s nothing wrong with just a taste of what you paid for