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