The Chanteuse

Liking abuse of power as a chanteuse
It makes you​​​​ formidable, crowned and wonderful
You turn water into Grey Goose
With your contralto
Singing revolutionary jazz songs that were written on bibs and napkins

You do the smoky room like gold, chanteuse
It make you stale on cue, it put you straight when the groove unloose
Go contralto, try a falsetto
Alto and sax, the bass hits the snare, stars from cymbals
Your voice of very heaven
Saves and damns so right