My god, what a palaver! I swear you could not write it Bought that laptop I'd saved for months to pay for Bullet biting Wrong model and no charger I telephone the centre Throw half my credit on a Careless whisper instrumental Tina's been a jobsworth Using her work as a vehicle All I want is a refund All I'm getting is an earful Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Now at a loss, I'm sitting Glazed-eyed channel flicking There's nothing on, I switch it off Then on, then off again, 'cause The fridge is desolate, and This toast has been cremated God knows it's desperate when A shower is entertainment 'Cause I've been asking questions Using my visa as a vehicle All I want is contentment All I've become is cynical Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager? All our faces are plastic All our plans are elastic All our smiles are crooked All our conversations practiced All our faces are plastic All our plans are elastic All our smiles are crooked All our conversations practiced Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please? Can I speak to a manager, please?