When the ball was over,
Mary took out her glass eye,
put her false teeth in a tumbler,
corked up her bottle of dye.
put her peg leg in the corner,
hung up her hair on the wall
there wasn't much left of poor Mary,
after the ball, after the ball, after the ball.
I don't understand the state of things,
all the girls want to be disco queens,
Trade a lover like a baseball card,
burn him like he's lard,
they're all just roller derby queens at heart.
Shake it don't break it sweet mamma,
Shake it don't break it tonight,
If that don't get you a man,
it ain't working being a groupy or a fan,
Break it, don't fake it, sweet mamma.