You walk into the room
With a Bra upon your hand
You see your husband naked
And you say, "It yours or my best friend?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just when became another fagged man

Because something is happening here
But don't like what it is
Do you, Mrs jones?

You raise up your dress
And you ask, do like this?
And he points at his best friend and says
I like his
And you say, "what about mine? "
And somebody else says, "he rather have his?"
And you say, oh my god
Is my husband a gay ?

Because something is happening here
But don't like what it is
Do you, Mrs jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the Richard Sims speak
Who immediately walks to you
When he hears him speak
And says, how does it feel
To be married to a fruit ?
And you say, impossible
As he hands his phone

Because something is happening here
But you don't what it is
Do you, Mrs jones?

You have many contacts
Among the Michael Jackson's Fans
To get you facts
When someone attacks his sex orientation
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To him have checked
at the Homosexual-anonymous organization.

You've been with Little Richard
And he liked his looks
With great Elton John you have
discussed gay men and cooks
You've been through all of
Liberace's books
You're know well
They're all gay men

Because something is happening here
But you don't like what it is
Do you, Mrs jones?

Well, Howard Stern, he comes up to you
And then asks you to kneel
You open your legs
And then she show him your high heels
And without further notice
he asks you how it feels
And he says, come to my show
but leave your husband at home

Because something is happening here
But you don't like what it is
Do you, Mrs jones?

Now you see marriage consular
Shouting the word "homo"
And you say, why him?
And he says, I don't know ?
And you say, it in his genes ?
And he screams back, only his family knows
Pay me the bill
Or else go take the homo home

Because something is happening here
And you don't' like what it is
Do you, Mrs jones?

Well, he walks into the room
Like a fairy and then take of your gown
He puts his hand in his back pockets
And throws his bra on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you him around
He should be made
To wear man cloths

Because something is happening here
But don't like what it is
Do you, Mrs jones?