Lyrics:

She's shopping for kicks, got the weekend to get through keeping the rain off her Saturday hairdo she stops for a coffee, she smiles at the waiter he winks at his friends and they laugh at her later he's cleaning his car on his pebbledash driveway new chamois leather he got for his birthday he reads Harold Robbins, flirts with his neighbour ignores her at breakfast, he's reading the paper he dreams of a roller, she dreams of a fast getaway. He's not a prince, he's not a king she's not a work of art or anything it makes no sense another year what kind of A to Z would get you here he's nothing special, she's not too smart he studies fashion, she studies art I thought I told you right from the start you were just my inbetween just my inbetween you're such an inbetweener. She went to the dream boys, got tickets from Keith Prowse she cancelled his lifelong subscription to Penthouse she goes round the corner she sees Harry Conway she says to herself that she'll leave him on Monday he dreams of a roller she dreams of a fast getaway. He's not a prince, he's not a king she's not a work of art or anything it makes no sense another year what kind of A to Z would get you here he's nothing special, she's not too smart he studies fashion, she studies art I thought I told you right from the start you were just my inbetween just my inbetween you're such an inbetweener. Now it's much too late to ask me where i've been you were just my inbetweener