[Intro, low and velvety, almost spoken] Come now, darling, don’t pull that face… Not everything lovely is meant to be good. Some things are simply… an acquired taste. [Verse 1, smooth, theatrical, sly] Got silk on me shoulders, gold at me wrist, A devilish smile and a list to be kissed, Brightstone perfume with a Six Towers grin, Let the filth stay outside, I collect what’s within. Pretty little trinkets, pretty little sins, Pretty broken birds with porcelain skin, You call it monstrous, I call it refined, A sharper eye and a more polished mind. [Pre-Chorus, teasing, smug] You lot see coin, but I see grace, A perfect mouth, a scandalous face, A lock of hair, a bloodstained glove, A morbid little token of obsession and love. [Chorus, big, catchy, poisonous charm] I’ve got an acquired taste, love, that’s all, For the rare, the doomed, the exquisite fall, For the velvet hush before the ruin breaks, For the look in your eyes when your stomach aches. Call me wicked, call me vain, Call me sick in the cleverest way, But beauty fades if it’s left to waste— So I keep it close. Acquired taste. [Verse 2, playful, sharper edge] Got girls in white with their collars of gold, Sweet little darlings too pretty to scold, Sat by me side like a saint in a frame, While I sip red wine and mispronounce shame. There’s a ring on me finger, a smirk on me lip, And a chain in me hand with a delicate grip, You think I’m cruel? Oh, don’t be absurd, I simply adore what deserves to be heard. [Pre-Chorus, rising, amused] A diamond’s common if every fool stares, But grief in a locket? Now that one wears. A ruined old mask from a dead girl’s play, That’s the sort of treasure that begs me to stay. [Chorus, fuller, singalong] I’ve got an acquired taste, love, that’s all, For the rare, the doomed, the exquisite fall, For the velvet hush before the ruin breaks, For the look in your eyes when your stomach aches. Call me wicked, call me vain, Call me sick in the cleverest way, But beauty fades if it’s left to waste— So I keep it close. Acquired taste. [Bridge, slower, darker, half-whispered] Bit of lace, bit of bone, bit of scent on a sleeve, Bit of heartbreak folded up neat to deceive, Bit of beauty with the rot tucked in, That’s where the fun starts, that’s where I begin. You lot want clean things, easy to praise, I want splendour dipped in terminal grace. A thing untouched is a thing unknown, And what is lovely if it isn’t owned? [Breakdown, spoken-sung, smug and intimate] No, no, don’t look so green, sweetheart. You’ve all got your appetites. Mine just happen to dress better. [Final Chorus, dramatic, lush, venomously catchy] I’ve got an acquired taste, love, that’s all, For the rare, the doomed, the exquisite fall, For the sweetest bloom with a blighted stem, For the broken crown and the dying gem. Call me wicked, call me vain, Call me sick and I’ll still remain, The finest host with the darkest taste— And every lovely thing ends up in my place. Acquired taste. Acquired taste. [Outro, soft, elegant, chilling] So mind your manners when you step through my door… I may decide you’re beautiful. And then you’ll be mine forevermore.
