| She called me up today
|
| Meet me down at the old cafe
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| I jumped into the shower
|
| I was getting my marching orders
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| We need to talk with you
|
| Step into my office, baby
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| I want to give you the job
|
| And a chance of overtime
|
| Say, my place at nine?
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| She’d never stand for any lies
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| She’s got an «out"tray full of guys
|
| I could sense a breath, a whole new feeling
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| Now she says she wants to call a meeting
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| We need to talk
|
| Step into my office, baby
|
| I want to give you the job
|
| And a chance of overtime
|
| Say, my place at nine?
|
| I’m a slave to work
|
| I’m only living when I walk amongst the office staff
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| And catch up with the office wag
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| I’ll be in bed by nine
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| My curtains drawn
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| My thoughts composed
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| I get to work on time
|
| She gave me some dictation
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| But my strength is in administration
|
| I took down all she said
|
| I even took down her little red dress
|
| We need to talk
|
| Step into my office, baby
|
| I want to give you the job
|
| I’ve been pushing for a raise
|
| Been pushing now for days
|
| My output is in decline
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| I was burned out after Thatcher
|
| My banner I laid down with a sigh
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| Now I doubt if I’ll ever catch her
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| I’ve got to change my ways
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| Dress for business every day
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| A sharp suit and a kipper tie
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| A big arrow pointing to my fly
|
| Have you shaved for work yet, baby?
|
| Don’t go where the boss is, baby
|
| We need to talk
|
| Step into my office baby
|
| I want to give you the job
|
| And a chance of overtime
|
| Say, my place at nine? |