Cindy tells me, the rich girls are weeping

Cindy tells me, they've given up sleeping alone

And now they're so confused by their new freedoms

And she tells me they're selling up their maisonettes

Left the hotpoints to rust in the kitchenettes

And they're saving their labour for insane reading.





Some of them lose - and some of them lose

But that's what they want - and that's what they choose

It's 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 labourer's wives

Perhaps they'll re-acquire those things they've all disposed of.