Titres les plus populaires de The Charlatans
Crédits
INTERPRÉTATION
The Charlatans
Interprète
Tony Rogers
Claviers
Tim Burgess
Chant
Mark Collins
Guitare
Martin Blunt
Basse
Jonathan Thomas Brookes
Batterie
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Tim Burgess
Composition
Mark Collins
Composition
Martin Blunt
Composition
Jonathan Thomas Brookes
Composition
Anthony Paul Rogers
Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
The Charlatans
Production
James Spencer
Ingénierie de mixage
Paroles
Oh! My love, my darling young son
All we need is a hungry council
Clean living, it's all here in your home
Wouldn't it be nice to get away?
Shout, morning, how are you today?
My hands are blazing, my arms are broken!
I looked you up, I read your book
I held you up, I kept you good
I guess I didn't really take a look
I guess I'm your man
Oh! My love be quiet and be quick
I found a house to live, keep out the weather
I'm blind, and I'm sick!
I heard the sound of thunder
In the place where all the poets sing
I couldn't get out, I couldn't get in
I'm hearing you, I'm hearing you
I looked up, I found love
I couldn't see I'll soon be 33
I guess I didn't really wanna see
I guess I'm your man
Oh, Lord, I feel my footsteps go on
All we need is a loving counsel to keep living
And I'll keep moving on
I'll keep my guard, and buy another farm
Find a hospital to fix a broken arm, be a pedigree
On a higher ground
Come with me, come with me
I've been run on, been walked on, been spat on, been whispered to
I guess I didn't mean to hurt you
I don't need to try to think about it
Build yourself a ship and you destroy it
I always have to check to see if I'm still breathing
Oh! My love my darling young son
Go rest your weary head
I will pray for good to come
Wouldn't it be nice, to get away?
Shout, good morning, how are you today?
My hands are blazing, my arms are broken
I took you up, I read your book
I looked you up, I kept you good
I guess I didn't really take a look
I guess I'm your man
I guess I'm your man
Writer(s): Anthony Rogers, Mark Collins, Martin Blunt, Timothy Burgess, Jon Brookes
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