Queen of the Underground - Michael Franks

I met you Sunday at the Dalai Lama’s

You bought some pictures in those silk pyjamas

And you seemed like someone from another planet

With your eyes so jet and your lips so pomegranate

And the coiffure you wore was Early Rocket

You wet your hair then find the nearest socket

And your blondie boyfriend wore a studded collar

Is that so he’ll come when he hears you holler

Back in the apple, high on the hog

You socialize with empty dialogue

They think you’re clever, they think you’re smart

You’re so convincing when you play the part

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

Went to your concert but the show was sold out

So I bought a program with a color foldout

In your padded shoulders you looked fantastic

It all seemed to say you were so iconclastic

One little problem still puzzles me

Ain’t you a daughter of the bourgeoisie

I thought I saw you mending the sails

Buying guerillawear at Bloomingdale’s

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