Violet was tickling my fancy Gives out just the right amount of soul I wonder if it makes me sound too old Decided that a stella or a candy Seems as if I'm spinning down a poem Swept them over to the stack of notes La-di-da-la I sing songs about Whatever the fuck they want Whatever the fuck they want And who will know I'm so blue Anna-Marie Moran Painting my teardrops on And on, and on, and on Staring through the window of a wig store Crying to the credits of a show That you've seen a bunch of times before An inch away from settling on cold gold Shame that she's that girl you used to know Loved her but we had to let her go La-di-da-la We sing songs about Whatever the fuck they want Whatever the fuck they want And who will know We're so blue Anna-Marie Moran Painting our teardrops on And on, and on, and on Anna-Marie Moran Shooting a mood call Pin you on a paper call I don't know where she's from But I'm stoned Dress me like the front of a casino Push me down another rabbit hole Touch me like I'm gonna turn to gold She's almost like a million other people That you'll never really get to know And it feels as if she's swallowing me whole La-di-da-la We sing songs about Whatever the fuck she wants Whatever the fuck she wants And who will know We're so blue Anna-Marie Moran She's painting our teardrops on And on, and on, and on