From the recording Shuttered Memories
These lyrics offer a sharp, sarcastic portrait of three formidable women captured in a moment of posed domestic discontent. With biting wit and theatrical flair, the song turns a simple photograph into a stage for judgment, drama, and generational sass. It's a cheeky ode to matriarchal power, sharp tongues, and the art of not being impressed.
Lyrics
They pose on the bed like it owes them rent
Their patience long gone, their standards bent
A room full of heat, a smile full of lies
That mask on the wall is less dead in the eyes
The curtain's velvet and the drama’s real
But no one here cares how you feel
Three queens on a plastic throne
Judging your haircut on a cell phone
A snapshot of sass in the shade of regret
Don’t smile too wide — they’re not done yet
Blanche crosses her arms like she’s seen it all twice
Denise wears a grin that could freeze boiling rice
While Lilian’s leaning, bored out of her mind
She’s plotting escape or a murder in kind
Their words are sharp, their silence’s worse
Those stylish storms in a Sunday’s curse
Three queens on a plastic throne
Judging your haircut on a cell phone
A snapshot of sass in the shade of regret
Don’t smile too wide — they’re not done yet
Was it love? Was it wine? Was it someone’s bad stew?
They just watch and simply assess you
One blink away from a biting remark
Matching expressions and an emotional bark
Hair done for nowhere, feet aching in place
Judgment and powder caked on each face
If these walls could talk, they’d scream and run
These queens of the night, blocking the sun
Now the lipstick’s faded, but not their scorn
They’ve been unimpressed since the day you were born
Three queens on a plastic throne
Judging your haircut on a cell phone
A snapshot of sass in the shade of regret
Don’t smile too wide — they’re not done yet