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12345/12345... 12345/12345 Her husband works in Jodrell Bank, he's home late in the morning, had he been a lawyer, he wouldn't work for pennies. In the morning I go walking, it helps the hurting soften, I've seen a lot of places, 'cos I miss her very often. But I could never work there, what a shame that I'm not clever, it's for men with horn rimmed glasses, and four distinguished ";A Level"; passes. What chance so long ago, I buried something I should know. Verse and chapter they unfurl, - and sprinkle it upon the world. Name it. Technique ! Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak, and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak. Without recourse to lying distortion or cheating. Technique ! Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak, and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak.




Songwriters: PADDY MCALOON /
Publisher: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing
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