В составе

Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Sam Fender
Sam Fender
Вокал
Thom Lewis
Thom Lewis
Программирование
Drew Michael
Drew Michael
Барабаны
Tom Ungerer
Tom Ungerer
Бас
Dean Thompson
Dean Thompson
Гитара
Joe Atkinson
Joe Atkinson
Синтезатор
Drew Michael
Drew Michael
Барабаны
Johnny Davis
Johnny Davis
Саксофон
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Sam Fender
Sam Fender
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Dean Thompson
Dean Thompson
Инженер
Mark Broughton
Mark Broughton
Инженер
Alex Borwick
Alex Borwick
Ассистент инженера
Craig Silvey
Craig Silvey
Миксинг-инженер
Dani Bennett- Spragg
Dani Bennett- Spragg
Дополнительный инженер
Greg Calbi
Greg Calbi
Мастеринг-инженер
Steve Fallone
Steve Fallone
Мастеринг-инженер
Bramwell Bronte
Bramwell Bronte
Продюсер
Claude Vause
Claude Vause
Ассистент инженера

Слова

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 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 nothing to offer Makes you hurt the ones who love you You hurt them like they're nothing (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh) You hurt them like they're nothing (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh) You hurt them like they're nothing (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh) See I spent my teens in rage Spiralling in silence And I armed myself with a grin 'Cause I was always the fuckin' joker Buried in their humour Amongst the white noise and boy's boys Locker room talkin' lad's 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 God, the kid looks so sad She said the debt, the debt, the debt So I thought about shifting gear And how she wept and wept and wept Luck came and died round here I see my mother The DWP see a number She cries on the floor encumbered I'm 17 going under I'm 17 going under (Oh-oh-oh-oh Oh-oh) I'm 17 going under (Oh-oh-oh-oh Oh-oh) I'm 17 going under (Oh-oh-oh-oh Oh-oh) I'm 17 going under (Oh-oh-oh-oh Oh-oh)
Writer(s): Sam Fender Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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