Kirsty MacColl Follow

There's an old jack crooning on my new TV
So I go out for a quiet drink
But it costs a packet and it's such a racket
That I can't hear myself think

There's a microchip one armed bandit with a screw loose
A stripper in the corner with a face like thunder
A terrible band playing Johnny B Goode
So I'd rather go home and stay quietly alone

I get up in the morning with the radio on
I do my makeup and I go to look for work
Somebody tells me that the job's just gone
And I've been replaced by some computer jerk

I would talk to my boyfriend but I never can
'Cos a space invader stole my man
There's a dreadful band playing Johnny B Goode
So I'd rather go home and stay quietly alone

Trying to keep my sanity is hard to do
Living like a hermit all alone
Find an occupation that won't deafen me
My sense of reality's gone

My temperature is getting higher and higher
And I'm shaking in my jeans
'Cause I get so angry when I'm shut in
With one of those machines

I would talk to my boyfriend but I never can
'Cause a space invader stole my man
And the synthesizer's playing Johnny B Goode
Then I'd rather go home and stay quietly alone

Quietly alone, quietly alone
Quietly alone, quietly alone

There's an old jack crooning on my new TV
So I go out for a quiet drink
But it costs a packet and it's such a racket