| Spare me the psycho babble, the mental rub-down
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| For the third time today I put his record on
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| I caught this ailment on the rebound
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| I’m looking for another one
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| Just listen to the DJ and follow the instruction
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| Yeah, you’re all so passive you drive me to destruction
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| ‘Cause you’re melting yourselves down into the cogs of mass production
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| And you’re lip reading, you’re lip reading
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| You’ve gotta see the designer souls in action
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| Flagging each disaster so you know where they’ve been
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| And I may be a sucker but I don’t see the attraction
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| ‘Cause your name is mud round here if you don’t come clean
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| Now the bed-sits and graffiti squats are up for rent
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| And the rebels here today are just tomorrows accidents
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| And you’ve been walking white lines, but you’re so hell bent
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| ‘Cause you’re lip reading, you’re lip reading
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| You’re not listening, it’s more than you can manage
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| Trusting the soul transmission, trusting the body language
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| In the distance someone plays a music hall classic
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| And the small time pushers predicting snow again
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| Someone tells the songwriter to quit the theatrics
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| I expect revolution before I count to 10
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| So stand in line behind the Miss World failures
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| Behind the leading voices and behind the drunken sailors
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| Put our hands together, pray for these drowning men to save us
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| But they’re lip reading, they’re lip reading
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| Just pick up your bible of practical achievement
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| Step one is how to catch him and step two is how to keep him
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| Those halfwits have to check their pulse and make sure they are breathing
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| ‘Cause they’re lip reading, they’re lip reading
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| Lip reading, they’re lip reading |