You're talking rubbish, we're not going to take
Another view close up; that like
What view are you talking about?
You've a cheek, you started it
I give up
You're really good
For nothing, you're talking rubbish
You see, him, he thinks i'm reaaally good
Because of boys
We put on nylon stockings
We pull each other's hair
Because of boys
And what people might say
We're always crying
Because of boys
We get worked up for real
Because of boys
Because of boys
Rifle
it's the word which comes to mind
When I think of my girl-friends
And me, I've had my fill
No joke, of your courses
Of the pill
I'm hallucinating
you ought to be vaccinated
All that for a poser (of a lad)
You're depressing, you can have him
If that's your style
Because of boys
We put on nylon stockings
Because of boys
We're always crying
It's the fault of the ma
Of the magazines
The Maries the Claires
The Marie-Claires
The Figs, the McDonald's beyond clear
The women of today and of yesterday
It's the fault of the ma
Of the magazines
The Maries, the Frances
The Marie-Frances
Practical women who aren't fed up with
Cosmo, vogue and all the rest
Because of boys
We strain our brains
We melt like ice cubes
Because of boys
I lie you lie we lie
We're slippery like soap
Because of boys
We fall out for good
Because of boys