| Wake up on Sunday morning
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| And everything feels so boring
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| Is that where it ends
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| With your life thru a lens
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| Hair is the new hat, brown is the new black
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| She shouldn’t wear this, he shouldn’t wear that
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| Pleasure at leisure make mine a double measure with friends
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| Fashion tardis down at Que Vadis
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| Who laughs the longest who drives the hardest
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| Pleasure at leisure make mine a double measure with friends
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| Just because I ain’t double barrelled
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| Don’t mean I haven’t travelled well
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| Can’t you tell!
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| Oh now it’s quite appalling
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| Your conversation is boring as hell, oh well!
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| Wake up on Sunday morning
|
| And everything feels so boring
|
| Is that where it ends
|
| With your life thru a lens
|
| And now your boyfriend’s suspicious
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| So go home and wash the dishes
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| And wash them well so he can’t tell
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| She’s looking real drab just out of rehab
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| I’m talking football she’s talking ab fab
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| Your clothes are very kitch
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| Just because your daddy is rich
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| You sound so funny with your voice all plummy
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| Now your cheque’s just bounced better run to your mummy
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| And you know it’s a class act she’ll never ask for it back
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| Just because I ain’t double barelled
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| Don’t mean I haven’t travelled well
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| Can’t you tell!
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| Mix with the local gentry and don’t crash Tarquin’s Bentley
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| I’ll take the bends with our life thru a lens
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| You’re scared of the poor and needy
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| Is that why you’re all inbreedy?
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| They’re just like you, they need love too
|
| Wake up on Sunday morning
|
| And everything feels so boring
|
| Is that where it ends
|
| With your life thru a lens
|
| And now your boyfriend’s suspicious
|
| So go home and wash the dishes
|
| And wash them well so he can’t tell |