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