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Lyrics

She called me up today
Meet me down at the old cafe
I jumped into the shower
I was getting my marching orders

We need to talk
Step into my office, baby
I want to give you the job
A chance of overtime
Say, my place at nine

Lyrics continue below...

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She'd never stand for any lies
She's got an out tray full of guys
I could sense a breath, a whole new feeling
Now she says she wants to call a meeting

We need to talk
Step into my office, baby
I want to give you the job
A chance of overtime
Say, my place at nine

I'm a slave to work
I'm only living when I walk
Amongst the office staff
And catch up with the office wag

I'll be in bed by nine
My curtains drawn
My thoughts composed
I get to work on time

She gave me some dictation
But my strength is in administration
I took down all she said
I even took down her little red dress

We need to talk
Step into my office, baby
I want to give you the job
I'm pushing for a raise
Been pushing now for days

My output is in decline
I was burned out after Thatcher
My banner I laid down with a sigh
Now I doubt if I'll ever catch her

I've got to change my ways
Dress for business every day

Writer(s): Stuart Murdoch, Christopher Geddes, Michael Cooke, Stephen Jackson, Bob Kildea, Sarah Martin, Richard Colburn

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