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Lyrics for 'Technique' by 'Prefab Sprout'
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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.
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