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 their Hotpoints to rust in their kitchenettes
And they're saving their labors 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.
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 laborers' wives
Perhaps they'll reacquire those things
They've all disposed of.
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