| Charles Rennie Mackintosh
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| let’s have another cuppa tea
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| before you wander off
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| into the cold old Glasgow streets where
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| the rain don’t never stop
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| Charles Rennie Mackintosh
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| as the teapot steeps, I admire every line
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| and all the high back chairs go «squeak»
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| and the old tea kettles whine
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| I find myself at home my friend
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| in a land that isn’t mine
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| and oh you’re a wise old man I know
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| 'cause when you built that Glasgow School of Art
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| you built it out of stone
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| Charles Rennie Mackintosh
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| you know I’d love to stay all week
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| and drink all these teapots dry
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| but the tea ain’t cheap
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| in this room that you designed
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| I wonder what they’re asking for
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| a little shepherd’s pie
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| Charles Rennie Mackintosh
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| now the world has turned
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| and your old town has changed a lot
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| and if you walked Buchanan Street,
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| I’m sure you’d find it odd
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| Mrs. Cranston sold the building
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| and they changed the whole facade |