| Oh what a feeling when you’re up all night
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| Get home to see that in the morning light
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| Whether it’s cold out there’s no doubt
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| Love being taxed by you
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| Looks like a piece of junk till it gets turned on
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| So good at getting to anywhere you want
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| Even if one time it’s one line
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| Love being faxed by you
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| I despise the telephone when it goes and I am home
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| I just say I’m out
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| Anyone whose mobile rings on a train that I am in
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| I just scream and shout
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| Let there be no doubt
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| Give their ears a clout
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| Night time’s the right time in the U.S.A
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| There only starting up as you end your day
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| Whether it’s New York an old Cork
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| Love being faxed by you
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| I despise the telephone when it goes and I am home
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| I pretend I’m out
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| Anyone whose mobile rings on a train I’m sitting in
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| I just scream and shout
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| Let there be no doubt
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| Give their ears a clout
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| Oh for the fun of it when you’re on your own
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| Oh for the joy it gives as you head for home
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| Maybe I’m crazy but lately
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| Love being taxed by you
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| After a hard day I must say
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| Love being faxed by you
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| And I don’t know what I’d do now without it
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| And I don’t know how without I’d live
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| Would that I did
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| And I don’t care if it runs out of paper
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| I don’t mind if at time it’s a mess
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| It’s still the best |