PRÉSENTATION

PAROLES

Clip vidéo

Clip vidéo

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Sam Fender
Sam Fender
Chant
Thom Lewis
Thom Lewis
Programmation
Drew Michael
Drew Michael
Batterie
Tom Ungerer
Tom Ungerer
Basse
Dean Thompson
Dean Thompson
Guitare
Joe Atkinson
Joe Atkinson
Synthétiseur
Drew Michael
Drew Michael
Batterie
Johnny Davis
Johnny Davis
Saxophone
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Sam Fender
Sam Fender
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Bramwell Bronte
Bramwell Bronte
Production
Dean Thompson
Dean Thompson
Ingénierie
Mark Broughton
Mark Broughton
Ingénierie
Alex Borwick
Alex Borwick
Assistance d’ingénierie
Craig Silvey
Craig Silvey
Ingénierie de mixage
Dani Bennett- Spragg
Dani Bennett- Spragg
Ingénieries complémentaires
Greg Calbi
Greg Calbi
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Steve Fallone
Steve Fallone
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Claude Vause
Claude Vause
Assistance d’ingénierie

Paroles

[Verse 1]
I remember the sickness was forever
I remember snuff videos
Cold Septembers, the distances we covered
The fist fights on the beach
The bizzies round us up
Do it all again next week
An embryonic love
The first time that it scarred
Embarrass yourself for someone
Crying like a child
And the boy who kicked Tom's head in
Still bugs me now
That's the thing, it lingers
And claws you when you're down
[Chorus]
I was far too scared to hit him
But I would hit him in a heartbeat now
That's the thing with anger
It begs to stick around
So it can fleece you of your beauty
And leave you spent with nowt to offer
It makes you hurt the ones who love you
You hurt them like they're nothing
[Chorus]
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh
You hurt them like they're nothing
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh
You hurt them like they're nothing
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh
[Verse 2]
See, I spent my teens enraged
Spiralling in silence
And I armed myself with a grin
'Cause I was always the fucking joker
Buried in their humour
Amongst the white noise and boys' boys
Locker room talking lads' lads
Drenched in cheap drink and snide fags
A mirrored picture of my old man
Oh God! The kid's a dab hand
Canny chanter, but he looks sad
God! The kid looks so sad
[Verse 3]
And God! The kid looks so sad
She said the debt, the debt, the debt
So I thought about shifting gear
And then she wept, and wept, and wept
Luck came and died 'round here
[PreChorus]
I see my mother
The DWP see a number
She cries on the floor encumbered
I'm seventeen going under
I'm seventeen going under
[Chorus]
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh
I'm seventeen going under
Whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh
I'm seventeen going under
Whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh
I'm seventeen going under
Whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh
Oh, whoa, oh
Written by: Sam Fender

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