There's an old jack crooning on my new TV
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So I go out for a quiet drink
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But it costs a packet and it's such a racket
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That I can't hear myself think
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There's a microchip one armed bandit with a screw loose
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A stripper in the corner with a face like thunder
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A terrible band playing "Johnny B Goode"
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So I'd rather go home and stay quietly alone
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I get up in the morning with the radio on
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I do my makeup and I go to look for work
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Somebody tells me that the job's just gone
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And I've been replaced by some computer jerk
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I would talk to my boyfriend but I never can
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'Cos a Space Invader stole my man
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There's a dreadful playing "Johnny B Goode"
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So I'd rather go home and stay quietly alone
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Trying to keep my sanity is hard to do
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Living like a hermit all alone
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Find an occupation that won't deafen me
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My sense of reality's gone
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My temperature is getting higher and higher
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And I'm shaking in my jeans
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'Cos I get so angry when I'm shut in
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With one of those machines
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I would talk to my boyfriend but I never can
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'Cos a Space Invader stole my man
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And the synthesizer's playing "Johnny B Goode"
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Then I'd rather go home and stay quietly alone
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Quietly alone
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Quietly alone
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Quietly alone
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Quietly alone
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Quietly alone
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Kirsty MacColl |