album cover
The Upper Classes
353
Rock
The Upper Classes foi lançado em 1 de janeiro de 1994 por Hut como parte do álbum Now I'm a Cowboy
album cover
Data de lançamento1 de janeiro de 1994
SeloHut
IdiomaEnglish
Melodicidade
Acusticidade
Valence
Dançabilidade
Energia
BPM83

Vídeo da música

Vídeo da música

Créditos

INTERPRETAÇÃO
The Auteurs
The Auteurs
Interpretação
Luke Haines
Luke Haines
Vocais
Alice Readman
Alice Readman
Baixo
James Banbury
James Banbury
Violoncelo
Barnaby C. Rockford
Barnaby C. Rockford
Bateria
Joe Beckett
Joe Beckett
Percussão
Louise Elliot
Louise Elliot
Saxofone
Belinda Sykes
Belinda Sykes
Oboé
COMPOSIÇÃO E LETRA
Luke Haines
Luke Haines
Composição
PRODUÇÃO E ENGENHARIA
Luke Haines
Luke Haines
Produção
Phil Vinall
Phil Vinall
Produção
Pete Hoffman
Pete Hoffman
Engenharia de gravação (assistente)
Giles Hall
Giles Hall
Engenharia de gravação (assistente)

Letra

[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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