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.
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