When you claimed I cooked your past
Well I defend your thorny sass
And as you sing to all the weird kids up front
Well I know that those groms have all the fun
Hey baby when you make it, when you gonna make it right?
I, I want to be your Friday night
With my new crushed velvet lapels so fluffed
Honey I made it all up
Eardrums are the phoniest
Good drummers are the metronomiest creature kids
I could find a critic for you
Cooklyns are you cackling at my fashion
That's so in fashion
Said I wanna make it right
I'm laughing at your jokes
Don't you know I'm harnessing your soaps
Cause I don't wanna bathe in vain
And I'm laughing at your dumb brain
Don't you know I'm leaning you alone
And as you sing to all the weird kids up front
Now I know that those groms have all the fun
So you croon your craft crack and scream the hits away
And I'll pretend you're my best mistake
Hey baby when you make it, when you gonna make it right?
I, I want to be your Friday night
Want to make it hurt
I want to make it hit
I'm gonna come and and find it