(alexander/badlees)



Well, i take off my shoes

When i walk in her door

And try my best to levitate

'cross her living room floor

'cause you can't leave tracks

When you're on hollowed ground

She'll just make you sweep 'em up

Like you're being hunted down



(chorus)

She's the queen of perfection

Everybody knows why

She's the queen of perfection

And she's soon gonna die



She says, "your body is a temple, boy

You ought to treat it well

But you trash the place and rent it out

Like it's some cheap motel"

Then she takes away my plate

Before i've finished by meal

And works on my hygiene

Against my will



(chorus)



Well, marie antoinette, she said,

"let 'em eat cake"

While she should have been planning

Her own damn escape

Now i smile 'cross the table

At my lady supreme

Knowin' that her coffee's laced

With mr. clean



(chorus 2x)