I'm gonna wear whatever I want, and
I'm gonna fuck whoever I want, and
I'm gonna talk however I talk, and
I'm gonna walk however I walk, but

When will I get mine?
When will I become Queen of the Blues?

Please don't put me in yer little box
Of cock-rock-rings and boxing socks
I'm gonna pour nail-polish under my skirt, and
Face-fuck the microphone until it hurts, but

When will I get mine?
When will I become Queen of the Blues?

I put my hands down and search for something, but
Face the fact that I'm always tugging nothing
I lubricate the stuck and rusted, wretched screws, but
Soon my hands become the loving hangman's noose, but

When will I get mine?
When will I become Queen of the Blues

Ladadadadadada dat-dot
Aladadadadadada dat-dot
Oopah deebah deeba weeda ba dah
Badoobah weeba lada day da dat-da

When will I get mine?
When will I become Queen of the Blues?

But
I've walls and i've got solace
I've got a purse inside my wallet

And
I have finally got mine, but I
Have to
Get away
From all of you