[Verse 1]
In the dim lights of Montmartre tonight
Where the brass still gleams but something ain't right
Henri's words cut sharp like a knife to the bone
While Sophie dances with someone new, leaving me all alone
[Chorus]
Fake smiles and handshakes, that's the game we play
In this smoky room where the truth fades away
They call it professional, I call it damn lies
Another round of bourbon as my soul slowly dies
[Verse 2]
These cats in fancy suits pretending they care
While my life's work dissolves in the Parisian air
"Network," they say, "Play the game, pay your dues"
But their eyes are cold as they spread their fake news
[Bridge]
Oh, the band plays on, but we're all just ghosts
In this dying club where they serve bitter toast
To the death of art and the birth of shows
Where substance drowns in champagne flows
[Verse 3]
Remember when jazz was pure and true?
Before the vultures came swooping through
Now it's all about who you know at the top
While real talent bleeds out, drop by drop
[Chorus]
Fake smiles and handshakes, that's the game we play
In this smoky room where the truth fades away
They call it professional, I call it damn lies
Another round of bourbon as my soul slowly dies
[Outro]
So here's to you, Henri, and your critical tongue
And Sophie, my dear, with your ladder half-rung
I'll keep on swinging till the curtain falls down
In this circus of suits where we all wear a crown
Of thorns made of gold, in this godforsaken town
Silent Handshake Video (MV)
Armand l'Enchanté - Silent Handshake Lyrics
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English
[Verse 1]
In the dim lights of Montmartre tonight
Where the brass still gleams but something ain't right
Henri's words cut sharp like a knife to the bone
While Sophie dances with someone new, leaving me all alone
[Chorus]
Fake smiles and handshakes, that's the game we play
In this smoky room where the truth fades away
They call it professional, I call it damn lies
Another round of bourbon as my soul slowly dies
[Verse 2]
These cats in fancy suits pretending they care
While my life's work dissolves in the Parisian air
"Network," they say, "Play the game, pay your dues"
But their eyes are cold as they spread their fake news
[Bridge]
Oh, the band plays on, but we're all just ghosts
In this dying club where they serve bitter toast
To the death of art and the birth of shows
Where substance drowns in champagne flows
[Verse 3]
Remember when jazz was pure and true?
Before the vultures came swooping through
Now it's all about who you know at the top
While real talent bleeds out, drop by drop
[Chorus]
Fake smiles and handshakes, that's the game we play
In this smoky room where the truth fades away
They call it professional, I call it damn lies
Another round of bourbon as my soul slowly dies
[Outro]
So here's to you, Henri, and your critical tongue
And Sophie, my dear, with your ladder half-rung
I'll keep on swinging till the curtain falls down
In this circus of suits where we all wear a crown
Of thorns made of gold, in this godforsaken town
In the dim lights of Montmartre tonight
Where the brass still gleams but something ain't right
Henri's words cut sharp like a knife to the bone
While Sophie dances with someone new, leaving me all alone
[Chorus]
Fake smiles and handshakes, that's the game we play
In this smoky room where the truth fades away
They call it professional, I call it damn lies
Another round of bourbon as my soul slowly dies
[Verse 2]
These cats in fancy suits pretending they care
While my life's work dissolves in the Parisian air
"Network," they say, "Play the game, pay your dues"
But their eyes are cold as they spread their fake news
[Bridge]
Oh, the band plays on, but we're all just ghosts
In this dying club where they serve bitter toast
To the death of art and the birth of shows
Where substance drowns in champagne flows
[Verse 3]
Remember when jazz was pure and true?
Before the vultures came swooping through
Now it's all about who you know at the top
While real talent bleeds out, drop by drop
[Chorus]
Fake smiles and handshakes, that's the game we play
In this smoky room where the truth fades away
They call it professional, I call it damn lies
Another round of bourbon as my soul slowly dies
[Outro]
So here's to you, Henri, and your critical tongue
And Sophie, my dear, with your ladder half-rung
I'll keep on swinging till the curtain falls down
In this circus of suits where we all wear a crown
Of thorns made of gold, in this godforsaken town
Writer: Ivan J.
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Too Lost LLC