She left the school for the factoryFrom pocket money to her salaryFrom a pack-o-mat to her compact caseAnd every morning she inspects her faceShe discovers pulling pints in pubsThat the good looks won't ever cover upFor her dumbnessIn taking the stockSees her reflection in a butcher's shopShe finds it all quite rareThat her meat's all vanity fareShe finds it all quite rareThat her meat's all vanity fareShe has her eyes on medallion menThat get her home on the dot and tenPaints her nails on the bathroom scalesGoggles her breath like a landed whaleCombs her hair when she gets excusedThe peel she wants always ends up screwedHer beauty is as deep as her skinKeeps her eyebrows in a tobacco tinShe poses for the owner chairCoconut-shy but vanity fairShe poses for the owner chairCoconut-shy but vanity fairIn her vanity case, her compact caseIn her compact case, her eyesNot bad for a sister but her vanity's fairAnd her sense of humour's dryShe comes home late with another schooler'sShe swears to have had just a pineapple juiceFalls asleep fully clothed in her bedWith her make-up removed up by her headShe might not be all thereBut her dream's all vanity fairShe might not be all thereBut her dream's all vanity fairShe might not be all thereBut her dream's all vanity fair