Видео

JAMIE WEBSTER - FICKLE FRAN (Lyric Video)
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Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Jamie Webster
Jamie Webster
Вокал
Dave Eringa
Dave Eringa
Программирование
Jim Sharrock
Jim Sharrock
Барабаны
Tim Cunningham
Tim Cunningham
Бас-гитара
Danny Murphy
Danny Murphy
Электрогитара
Gavin Fitzjohn
Gavin Fitzjohn
Исполнитель
Bernard Kane
Bernard Kane
Альт
WILLIAM HILLMAN
WILLIAM HILLMAN
Скрипка
Simon Howes
Simon Howes
Скрипка
Juliet McCarthy
Juliet McCarthy
Виолончель
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Jamie Webster
Jamie Webster
Композитор
Tim Cunningham
Tim Cunningham
Аранжировщик ударных инструментов
Gavin Fitzjohn
Gavin Fitzjohn
Аранжировщик ударных инструментов
Bernard Kane
Bernard Kane
Аранжировщик струнных инструментов
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Dave Eringa
Dave Eringa
Продюсер
Ed Woods
Ed Woods
Мастеринг-инженер

Слова

(Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) and everybody's on it (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) though the product's pretty It's en evident pity now That they don't want it, no, they just don't want it (Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you) (To the tale of Fickle Fran, your local unofficial salesman) Franny's not rich no, neither poor Sells knock-off clobber door to door Says winter's far too cold And the wages don't come near On a sunny prom, he'll sell to masses Cheap handbags and fake sunglasses Like he's in a crack-house And he's a dealer pushing gear Sets up a stall near where a band begins to play But Fran, he's living in ten years yesterday And as the bands sings (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) and everybody's on it (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) though the product's pretty It's en evident pity now that they don't want it As the sun beats down and the beverages pour Fran pulls a frown because the game he once knew Ain't the same anymore Burning skin, pouring sweat The man's not sold an item yet He sighs, "Life's getting harder now And this job's become a curse" Fran admits with heavy shame "Things went downhill since Bezos came And all these eastern websites Well, they've made things even worse" Poor Fickle Francis just won't admit defeat He now prays for winter to get back on his feet And as the band sings (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) and everybody's on it (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) though the product's pretty It's en evident pity now that they don't want it So he tries a different door With claims of selling everything you need and more Says, "I'm living with an eye on bailiffs after me" Still rather this than working in a factory (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) the sun's out in the city (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) and everybody's on it (Ba, ba-da-da-da, ba) though the product's pretty It's en evident pity now that they don't want it
Writer(s): Jamie Mark Webster Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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