The Weeknd – House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls (Original

The Weeknd – House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls (Original) Lyrics

House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls (Original)

The Weeknd

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House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls (Original) Album Art

"House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls (Original)." - The Weeknd

Tuesday, 20 October 2026, 08:47 pm

Album: House of Balloons (Original)

Track No: 03

Whoa, whoa
Uh
Hey, hey
Yeah
Been on another level
Since you came, no more pain
You look into my eyes
You can't recognize my face
You're in my world now
You can stay, you can stay
But you belong to me
Ooh, you belong to me
If it hurts to breathe, open a window
Oh, your mind wants to leave, but you can't go
Oh, this is a happy house
We're happy here in a happy house
Oh, this is fun, fun, fun, fun
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Fun, fun, fun, fun (Whoa)
Whoa, whoa
The music got you lost
Nights pass so much quicker than the days did
Same clothes, you ain't ready for your day shift
This place will burn you up
Baby, it's okay, them my **** next door
They be working in the traps, so get naughty if you want
So don't blame it on me
That you didn't call your home
Oh, just don't blame it on me, girl
'Cause you wanted to have fun
If it hurts to breathe, open a window (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Oh, your mind wants to leave, but you can't go
This is a happy house
We're happy here, in a happy house
Oh, this is fun, fun, fun, fun (This is fun)
Fun, fun, fun, fun (This is fun to me)
Fun, fun, fun, fun (Whoa, whoa)
Whoa, whoa
Bring the 707 out
Bring the 707 out
Bring the 707 out
Bring the 707 out
Bring the 707 out
Bring the 7
Two puffs for the lady who be down for that
Whatever, together
Bring your own stash of the greatest, trade it
Roll a dub, burn a dub, cough a dub, taste it
Then watch us chase it with a handful of pills, no chasers
Jaw clenchin' on some super-sized papers
She bad and her head bad
Escapin', her van is a wonderland
And it's half past six, weed's nice 'cause time don't exist
And when the stars shine back to the crib
Superstar lines back at the crib
And we can test out the tables, we got some brand new tables
All glass and it's four-feet wide, but it's a must to get us ten-feet high
She give me sex in a handbag, I get her wetter than a wet nap
And no closed doors, so I listen to her moans echo
I heard he do drugs now
You heard wrong, I been on it for a minute
We just never act a fool, that's just how we fuckin' livin'
And when we act a fool, it's probably 'cause we mixed it
Yeah, I'm always on that okey-dokey
Them white boys know the deal, ain't no fuckin' phony
Big O know the deal, he the one who showed me
Watch me ride this fuckin' beat like you fuckin' told me
Is that your girl, what's her fuckin' story?
She kinda bad, but she ride it like a fuckin' pony
I cut down on how her man, be her fuckin' story
Yeah, I'm talkin' 'bout you, man, get to know me
Ain't no offense though, I promise you
If you a real man, dude, you gon' decide the truth
But I'm a nice dude with some nice dreams
And we could turn this to a nightmare, Elm Street
La-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
I'm so gone, so gone
Bring out the glass tables
Put the 707 out
La-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
I'm so gone, so gone
Bring out the glass tables
The 707 out
La-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
I'm so gone, so gone
Bring out the glass tables
Put the 707 out
La-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
I'm so gone, so gone
Bring out the glass tables
Put the 707 out
707 out
707 out

Writer(s): The Weeknd, Illangelo, Doc McKinney, Susan Ballion, Peter Clarke, John Martin & Steven Severin.

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