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Paul Heaton and Jacqui Abbott
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The Queen of Soho
I walk the streets as well I could
I really tried my best
In conversation, character
Especially the way I dressed
But it's hard, you see, as younger man
To actually convince
Folks just clearly saw a queen
Pretending to be prince
But prince takes into battleground
A tribal sword and scar
Green remains behind the scenes
And hidden crown in bra
So, come on, girls, unleash your curls
Don't be feeling sad
Get the feeling swinging from
Your hipbones to your bag
We're better than the legs and skirt
Your boyfriend wants to shag
I'm sticking on my high heels
Some lippie from my bag
I've had enough of compromise
I'm going back to drag
Those trips on London underground
Those bloody dangerous nights
A daze of rouge and subterfuge
Of lattice in our tights
I'll make a pram that's faster than
Their prejudice and hate
Take us up the escalator
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Of vaulting over gate?
Oh, boy, they really wanted me
And boy, I really ran
Oh, boy, this was the only time
This girl outran a man
So, come on, girls, unleash your curls
Don't be feeling sad
Get the feeling swinging from
Your hipbones to your bag
We're better than the legs and skirt
Your boyfriend wants to shag
I'm sticking on my high heels
Some lippie from my bag
I've had enough of compromise
I'm going back to drag
Here's the hers who used to be him
Here's to the Joans who used to be Jim
Who learned how to dive before they could swim
To the lads who went out on a limb
Wear pull-ups, wear suspenders
Wear dresses mum would lend us
Wear boarding schools you'd send us
We're going back to drag
A straight once treated you as a freak
The freak, like someone's dad
I've had enough of walking straight
I'm staggering back to drag
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