Amex Centurion

Lyrics

Oh, you don't have one?
How... quaint.
It started as a rumor, you know.
A whisper in the Concorde lounge back in… whenever.
Nineteen ninety-something.
They said there was a secret card.
For secret people.
And Kenneth Chenault, bless his heart, he just… made the rumor real.
An invitation arrived. No return address. Just a centurion, staring.
It's anodized titanium.
Feel the weight of it, darling. That's the point.
Ten thousand dollars just to say hello.
Five thousand more each year just to not get bored.
You don't *ask* for it. You don't *apply*.
You're simply… chosen.
Isn't that divine?
My concierge found me a specific grain of sand from the Gobi Desert.
I was feeling… beige.
They closed down the Louvre for me on a Tuesday.
The Mona Lisa winked, I swear.
I use it to chop lines of organic, fair-trade… powdered sugar.
It makes a very satisfying sound against the glass.
The perks are just… adequate.
It's anodized titanium.
Feel the weight of it, darling. That's the point.
Ten thousand dollars just to say hello.
Five thousand more each year just to not get bored.
You don't *ask* for it. You don't *apply*.
You're simply… chosen.
So terribly, terribly chosen.
It's just a piece of metal.
Black paint on a heavy promise.
A pre-set limit that isn't pre-set but definitely exists.
They say it buys access.
But all I see are taller, shinier walls.
A heavier wallet for a lighter soul.
Is this what value feels like?
This cold, satisfying thud?
Get me front-row tickets to the apocalypse.
Book me a table for two on the moon.
Find the last dodo and tell it I'm sorry.
Cancel my... subscription to reality.