Cindy tells me, the rich girls are weeping
Cindy tells me, theyve given up sleeping alone
And now theyre so confused by their new freedoms
And she tells me theyre selling up their maisonettes
Left the hotpoints to rust in the kitchenettes
And theyre saving their labour for insane reading.
Some of them lose - and some of them lose
But thats what they want - and thats what they choose
Its a burden - such a burden
Oh what a burden to be so relied on.
Cindy tell me, what will they do with their lives
Living quietly like labourers wives
Perhaps theyll re-acquire those things theyve all disposed of.