Every second Saturday it's off to Wormwood Scrubs To sit within six inches of the man she loves The visit's twenty minutes But it's a whole day on the bus Presses her fingers to the glass And waits for twenty years to pass But Renee's remaining true What else can she do? Tried to take it on the chin But god, it got her in the neck She's recognised in public And in private she's a wreck Loves and marriages, loves and marriages They can come apart like railway carriages It's not a bit like Frank Sinatra says Train robbers' wives For the best part of their lives... For the worst part of their lives