Oh well I love my queen.
Do you know who I mean?
Sweet little sixteen
Yes, that's my queen.
Well, she wears short shorts and a rock 'n roll shoes.
You ought to see her dance to the yellow dog blues.
She's my sugar time baby, I'm her lollipop,
An' everybody knows I love my queen of de hop
Reminds me of the chick who the cousin who got affluent in the auto body business hooked and moved to the faux chic gated community who you only saw at weddings and funerals down from the haughty burbs doing some slumming at J. Patricks (cash only mind you) in Locust Point, in the shadow of the (now très elégant) Silo. Babbittry exemplified.