| You’ve got this dress, laced up sheer collar
|
| Million dollar lover, on the other side of town
|
| You’ve got the strangers looking at you
|
| And they wonder where you’re off to
|
| Maybe Paris is home bound?
|
| But then the day ends
|
| And you lay awake in your bed
|
| Wishing you were somebody else
|
| Yeah, somebody else
|
| I guess this is Vogue
|
| Cocaine on the floor
|
| Catching yourself in the mirror
|
| Who the hell is this girl?
|
| Vogue hearts are made out of gold
|
| 24-carats shoot right through your soul
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| This is Vogue
|
| You’ve got this endless all-cash offer from your father
|
| Does it even matter anymore?
|
| 'Cause all the people talk about it
|
| Wishing they could some day have it
|
| Only you know how it goes
|
| 'Cause when the day ends
|
| And you lay awake in your bed
|
| Wishing you were somebody else
|
| Yeah, somebody else
|
| I guess this is Vogue
|
| This is Vogue
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| This is Vogue
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| This is Vogue
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| You’re a stranger on a street
|
| You’re a secret I can keep, yeah
|
| You’re my reflection in the mirror
|
| You’re a whisper in my sleep, yeah
|
| You’re a stranger on a street
|
| You’re a secret I can keep, yeah
|
| You’re my reflection in the mirror
|
| You’re a whisper in my sleep, yeah
|
| I guess this is Vogue
|
| Cocaine on the floor
|
| Catching yourself in the mirror
|
| Who the hell is this girl?
|
| Vogue hearts are made out of gold
|
| 24-carats shoot right through your soul
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| This is Vogue, yeah
|
| This is Vogue |