You preach your message of moral high
Heaven knows how you must lie
A sound Christian life, how sad
So restrained, but you need it so bad
Mrs. Minister, so prude and upper gla**
Mrs. Minister, the night comes
And you're switching fast
Mrs. Minister, becomes the dil*o queen
Mrs. Minister, you jam it up
Then s** it clean
Born rich, of high society
Will respected for all to see
Cannot mix with the working man
Oh so proud, but you need it so bad
Mrs. Minister, so prude and upper gla**
Mrs. Minister, the night comes
And you're switching fast
Mrs. Minister, becomes the dil*o queen
Mrs. Minister, you jam it up
Then s** it clean