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Her husband works in Jodrell Bank, he's home late in the morning,
had he been a lawyer, he wouldn't work for pennies.
In the morning I go walking, it helps the hurting soften,
I've seen a lot of places, 'cos I miss her very often.
But I could never work there, what a shame that I'm not clever,
it's for men with horn rimmed glasses, and four distinguished "A Level" passes.
What chance so long ago, I buried something I should know.
Verse and chapter they unfurl, - and sprinkle it upon the world. Name it.
Technique !
Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak,
and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak.
Without recourse to lying distortion or cheating.
Technique !
Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak,
and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak.
Prefab Sprout - Technique Lyrics
Prefab Sprout - Technique Lyrics
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12345/12345... 12345/12345
Her husband works in Jodrell Bank, he's home late in the morning,
had he been a lawyer, he wouldn't work for pennies.
In the morning I go walking, it helps the hurting soften,
I've seen a lot of places, 'cos I miss her very often.
But I could never work there, what a shame that I'm not clever,
it's for men with horn rimmed glasses, and four distinguished "A Level" passes.
What chance so long ago, I buried something I should know.
Verse and chapter they unfurl, - and sprinkle it upon the world. Name it.
Technique !
Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak,
and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak.
Without recourse to lying distortion or cheating.
Technique !
Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak,
and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak.
Her husband works in Jodrell Bank, he's home late in the morning,
had he been a lawyer, he wouldn't work for pennies.
In the morning I go walking, it helps the hurting soften,
I've seen a lot of places, 'cos I miss her very often.
But I could never work there, what a shame that I'm not clever,
it's for men with horn rimmed glasses, and four distinguished "A Level" passes.
What chance so long ago, I buried something I should know.
Verse and chapter they unfurl, - and sprinkle it upon the world. Name it.
Technique !
Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak,
and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak.
Without recourse to lying distortion or cheating.
Technique !
Their eyes don't fill with wonder when you speak,
and I loathe the stilted way you make me speak.
Writer: PADDY MCALOON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC