It's Saturday night  it feels like a Sunday in some ways
If you had any sense  you'd maybe go away for a few days
Be that as it may  you can only say you are lonely
You are but a young girl working your way through the
Phonies
Cafe on  milk gone  such a sad light and fading
Yourself you touch  but not too much  You hear it's
Degrading
The flowers on your stockings wilting away in the midnight
The book you are reading is someone's opinion of moonlight
Your skin is so white  you'd like maybe to go to bed soon
Just closing your eyes if you're to rise up before noon
High heels  car wheels  all the losers are groovin'
Your dream  strange scene  images are movin'
Your friends they are making a pop star or two every evening
You know that scene backwards  they can't see the patterns
They're weaving
Your friends they're all models but you soon got over that
One
You sit in your one room a little brought down in London
Cafe on  milk gone  such a sad light and fading
Yourself you touch  but not too much  You hear it's
Degrading
It's Saturday night  it feels like a Sunday in some ways
If you had any sense  you'd maybe go away for a few days
Be that as it may  you can only say you are lonely
You are but a young girl working your way through the
Phonies