| I met you Sunday at the Dalai Lama’s
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| You bought some pictures in those silk pyjamas
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| And you seemed like someone from another planet
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| With your eyes so jet and your lips so pomegranate
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| And the coiffure you wore was Early Rocket
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| You wet your hair then find the nearest socket
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| And your blondie boyfriend wore a studded collar
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| Is that so he’ll come when he hears you holler
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| Back in the apple, high on the hog
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| You socialize with empty dialogue
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| They think you’re clever, they think you’re smart
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| You’re so convincing when you play the part
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| You’re the queen of the under
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| Queen of the underground
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| You’re the queen of the under
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| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| Went to your concert but the show was sold out
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| So I bought a program with a color foldout
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| In your padded shoulders you looked fantastic
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| It all seemed to say you were so iconclastic
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| One little problem still puzzles me
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| Ain’t you a daughter of the bourgeoisie
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| I thought I saw you mending the sails
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| Buying guerillawear at Bloomingdale’s
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| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the under
|
| Queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the underground
|
| You’re the queen of the underground |