I may not have the glamorous sheen,
The moves, the grooves of sweet sixteen,
I get angry soon and am suspiciously keen –
But I’m your Is, Will Be and Has-Been
So don’t send me away honey,
For I’m your crazy, wayward queen.

I fight with you and punch your nose,
Of my short temper you get overdose,
Just smile at other girls – you’ll know what I mean,
But don’t send me away honey –
I’m your crazy, wayward queen.

So what if in our last quarrel I pulled your hair?
When you walk, I worship the surrounding air;
You my soul, you’re tall and lean,
The one that I dreamt of as a lonely teen,
You’re my love and my war and everything in-between;
Don’t send me away honey,
For I’m your crazy, wayward queen.