jean the machine

whatever happened to jean the machine, she used to live down the hall from me, and all of the boys in the band, miss her so bad now, ain't it pitiful, she made her way from hungary, a refugee with a voice like callas, but somehow she couldn't get on, so she took it off, at the, the local palace, jean come back, jean come back, jean come back, my landlady said jean's a commie spy, and each time i asked for the reason why, my landlady said it's a front, she bumps and grinds codes, to an audience of immigrants, it blows my mind when i think of jean, every night with a new routine, 'cos i play drums in the band, she used me as part, of her dirty commie plan, jean come back, jean come back, jean come back, jean come back, jean come back, jean come back