Queen of the Blues

I'm gonna wear whatever I want, and I'm gonna f*ck 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-f*ck 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? (La-La-La) 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