album cover
The Upper Classes
353
Rock
Utwór The Upper Classes został wydany 1 stycznia 1994 przez Hut jako część albumu Now I'm a Cowboy
album cover
Data wydania1 stycznia 1994
WytwórniaHut
JęzykEnglish
Melodyjność
Akustyczność
Valence
Taneczność
Energia
BPM83

Teledysk

Teledysk

Kredyty

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Auteurs
The Auteurs
Performer
Luke Haines
Luke Haines
Vocals
Alice Readman
Alice Readman
Bass
James Banbury
James Banbury
Cello
Barnaby C. Rockford
Barnaby C. Rockford
Drums
Joe Beckett
Joe Beckett
Percussion
Louise Elliot
Louise Elliot
Saxophone
Belinda Sykes
Belinda Sykes
Oboe
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Luke Haines
Luke Haines
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Luke Haines
Luke Haines
Producer
Phil Vinall
Phil Vinall
Producer
Pete Hoffman
Pete Hoffman
Assistant Recording Engineer
Giles Hall
Giles Hall
Assistant Recording Engineer

Tekst Utworu

[Verse 1]
Some of the clothes
You stole from your lover's home
Make you glow in the dark
Make you light up the room on your own
Formative years
Were a drag but we passed the time somehow
I'm in cahoots
With the upper classes now
[Verse 2]
Put it all in a trust fund
She can't touch 'till she's twenty one
Amazing the cruel hand of fate
A tax loss against the state
[Verse 3]
You had to move three times this year
I'd rather be anywhere but here
The champagne highs and the giddy lights
Are paradise
[Verse 4]
House guest is here
Can't believe that the vanishing point appeared
Can hardly believe
People live in houses behind trees
Formative years
Were a drag but we passed the time somehow
I'm in cahoots
With the upper classes now
[Verse 5]
That cunt's really got it sussed
Selling wine, selling drugs
You can't get so far with a perishing wit
But the money's in trust - isn't it?
[Verse 6]
What treasures can you hold and face?
You don't have the right name
The champagne highs and the giddy lights
Are paradise
[Verse 7]
Some of your friends
From your other life just don't belong
They're crude and they're plain
It's not their fault, it's the world they're from
[Verse 8]
You can't come here no more
Unless you use the tradesman's door
There's nothing wrong with inherited wealth
If you melt the silver - yourself
[Verse 9]
Put it all in a trust fund
She can't touch 'till she's twenty one
The champagne highs and the giddy lights
Are paradise
Paradise
Paradise
[Verse 10]
Some of the clothes
You stole from your lover's home
Are better than the clothes
We stole from the shops on our own
Formative years
Were a drag but we passed the time somehow
I'm in cahoots
With the upper classes now, now, now
Written by: Luke Haines
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