She left the credit cards under her goodbye note
   “All of these are yours, goodbye” and that was all she wrote
   Keys to the Porsche she dropped on the floor in the den
   Left in the ‘70 Dodge that he drove her in
   She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t sad
   She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
  
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of running around with the usual guys and gals
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of living up to all he expected
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of letting her dreams go neglected
  
   She used to love to know she rounded out his world
   She used to love to be all he ever loved in a girl
   He liked to buy her clothes that made her sexy and cute
   Guess she decided she’d been too long away from her roots
   She wasn’t crazy, she wasn’t mad
   She just knew in her heart they had drained her of all that she had
  
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of all the platinum frustration
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of looking like a cutie on the cover of a magazine
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of chasing all the latest sensations
  
   She wasn’t angry, no, no, she wasn’t sad
   She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
  
   She was tired of being blonde
   Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of coping with the desperation
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of fighting back the feeling inside that told her to run
   Tired of being blonde
   Tired of hiding her own inclinations