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.