If your dishes stink in you putrid sink;
If your vacuum cleaner's bust;
If your refrigerator's on the blink,
C'mon, sing along with us:

Chorus:
Whinge rock

This song's for the alienated
In their ghetto dwelling fringe.
Capitalism's a harsh cruel world -
C'mon pine heads, have a whinge:

Every song on the radio,
Someone's moaning about heart burn,
Or Sting's lost his copy of Jung -
C'mon listener, now it's your turn.