Perfect

Can't take champagne to the grave We all end up six feet under anyways It doesn't matter who you were before 'Cause no one's actually keeping score So why is everyone pretending that it matters? What you're spending, what you look like What you say when at the end of the day No one makes it out alive There's no point in your pretty lies, oh Fuck designer, start a riot Perfect's going outta style I was never like them Sick of hitting my head on that glass ceiling Falling in line can be fatal I'd rather be a fucking mess than stable Why is everyone pretending that it matters? What you're wearing, who you talk to Who you date when at the end of the day No one makes it out alive There's no point in your pretty lies, oh Fuck designer, start a riot Perfect's going outta style I don't need no glitter dreams, I'm okay with crooked teeth All I need is just to feel like me, oh I don't need no glitter dreams, I'm okay with crooked teeth All I need is just to feel like me No one makes it out alive There's no point in your pretty lies, oh Fuck designer, start a riot Perfect's going outta style No one makes it out alive There's no point in your pretty lies, oh Fuck designer, start a riot Perfect's going outta style