Soft focus on the lady who gets up late
In languid and sleepy state
Lashings of eau de toilette
Perfumes of faint violet
Slinky silky Crˆpe de Chine
Nothing ever petty or mean
Tracing fingers on her pillow
Where the lawn runs down to the willow
And the river flows gently on
Singing a skylark summer song
Working girls are early to rise
Cold tile floor and sleep in their eyes
The working day begins
When the alarm bell rings
Fumble for something clean to wear
Scraping a brush through unwashed hair
Pull on a dress
An old pair of tights
Patch up make up
From last night
A fast breakfast of cornflakes and toast
Catch the news
Running for the bus in the rain
Waiting for the eight o'clock train

Chorus:
Morning Girls
Morning Girls
Morning Girls
Morning Girls

Morning sickness throwing up
How much must you give up
Will it ruin your career
Must you finish school this year
Is it wanted
Were you caught
Time for joy
Or time to abort
Take the strain of getting fat
Take the pain are you ready for that

Woken by a baby needing a drink
Scheming by the cooker and kitchen sink
Visions of the supermarket
Brought home in an empty basket
Fantasies of a hoover day drone
Leisurely cleaning a spotless home
Dreams of fame and fortune
While tidying up the front room