"You're gonna love this one." [Verse] Haute couture... pas touche... (Haute couture... pas touche.) Haute couture... Pas touche... (Haute couture... pas touche.) [Verse] Two AM, smoking lounge And this guy walks in He gets out half a "can I" and his hand already touchin'. Small of my back, like a valet, like I'm somethin' he's parkin'. and I just start glarin'. Feel his hand and look at him. He stares back and asks me C'est haute couture chérie? Oui mais ne touche pas. [Pre Chorus] And now he's doing this thing as if we were havin' a moment. I was enjoyin' a cigarette, "chérie". and I didn' ask for company. [Chorus] Haute couture pas touche. You can look that's what it's for. Haute couture pas touche. Touch it once you'll kiss the floor. (Regarde et ne touche pas!) Say it back to me. Say it slower, baby. Regarde. Et ne. Touche. Pas. [Verse] Then his nerve O M G! you were smilin' at me I smile at dogs baby, now you're being dramatic 'course I am, look at me I'm smokin' in couture, and your hand was on me. [Breakdown] Tu t'es cru où, toi? La robe c'était un menu? Tu pointes, tu commandes, et ça arrive tout cuit? Y'a pas de carte ici, chéri, y'a pas de serveur y'a moi, y'a la porte, et t'as zappé. Trente secondes. J'avais tout posé sur la table. T'avais qu'à attendre. Même ça, t'as pas géré. La main avant le mot, le geste avant la phrase maintenant t'es cramé de salle en salle, t'es fiché. J'te calcule même pas, faudrait que j'aie le seum. Dossier clos, pas d'appel, tu peux plier. Tu voulais toucher? T'as essayé. "Cheh." Regarde tes mains là. Vides. Et toi aussi. (Je décide.) Pas la robe. Pas l'heure. Pas ton verre à dix balles. Moi. Trente secondes. C'était ça, le deal. [Build up] Regarde tout le mond (Regarde!) Regarde toi (Regarde!) Regarde moi (Regarde!) et ne touche pas! (et ne touche pas!) [Drop] Hands! Face! Body! Walk! Cut, clean, no fray, no fault. Haute! Couture! Pas! Touche! J'ai dit que c'est haute couture, imbécile! (Regarde et ne touche pas!) [Bridge] I was gonna say yes, Thirty seconds later, But you had to be a prick. Now I don't get to know if I wanted you or wanted to be asked. That's the whole joke. Not the hand. Not the back. Not the seconds where the choice was still mine. Je décide. Yeah. Sure. [Solo] I'm haute couture, "chérie", Take a fucking good look at me. All that swagger, you fucking bore I've rejected better men on the floor. Oh, don't go quiet now, big man Where's that confidence come on! You were so sure you'd handle me Can't even handle being WRONG! Go on, tell your friends I'm crazy Whatever helps you sleep so easy. You came in thinkin' you'd have me Now you can't even LOOK AT ME! [Chorus] Haute couture pas touche. You can look that's what it's for. Haute couture pas touche. Touch it once you'll kiss the floor. (Regarde et ne touche pas!) Say it back to me. Say it slower, baby. Regarde. Et ne. Touche. Pas. [Outro] (Haute couture... pas touche.) (Haute couture... pas touche.)
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