Once upon a time you were on prime time Made the Monday lineup on Fox at 9:00, didn't you? Your complaints and whines while defendin' crimes In your high hemlines made Gloria Steinem spit on you And all the '90s women heed your call And share your deep desire to have it all But they don't see the way you stay so small Behind the locked door of the bathroom stall Sittin' there, hunched over and purging your last meal Ally McBeal Ally McBeal Nothing but skin and bone Just like a Kate Moss clone Without no muscle tone Like a skele-tone You can try to lie, say your metabolism's high
But I ain't gonna buy it when you're outsized by Ethiopians And I just can't stand you in your damn flannel jammies Dancin' 'round, plannin' which man'll get the grand tour of your fallopians I just don't get what all the people see In your self-involvement and hypocrisy Your Pop-Tart feminism and cheap neuroses As I stare into the vacuum of my T.V. Scratching my head and trying to understand your appeal Ally McBeal Ally McBeal Think of all the chunks you've blown And all the up you've thrown Into your porcelain throne Regurgitati-one