Louis Dunford — The Local: тексты песен, клипы и концерты

The Local

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Alternative

Трек «The Local» вышел в 14 февраля 2025 г. г. на альбоме «{albumName}» (лейбл «RCA Records Label»)Be Lucky

Информация о песне

АльбомBe Lucky

Дата релиза14 февраля 2025 г.

ЛейблRCA Records Label

ЯзыкEnglish

Мелодичность

Акустичность

Валанс

Танцевальность

Энергия

BPM114

ОБЗОР

СЛОВА

Видео

Видео

Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ

Louis Dunford

Вокал, Фортепиано

James Mellor

Электрогитара, Синтезатор, Акустическая гитара, Программирование, Бэк-вокал

Tommy Sheen

Синтезатор, Электрогитара, Бэк-вокал, Акустическая гитара

James Attwood

Электрогитара, Синтезатор, Бэк-вокал

Chris Maas

Барабаны, Ударные инструменты, Бэк-вокал

Adam Prendergast

Adam Prendergast

Бас, Бэк-вокал

МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА

Louis Dunford

Композитор, Тексты песен

Beatrice Munro

Композитор, Тексты песен

ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ

James Mellor

Миксинг-инженер, Продюсер

Kevin Tuffy

Мастеринг-инженер

Слова

[Verse 1]

Thank fuck, it's Friday

We're not going home

Till we're singing "My Way"

Or "Come on Eileen" to our family down the phone

Long live the local

Wherever you roam

Times are hard for the hopeful

So long live the local

[Verse 2]

As a week of desperation lays thick upon the air

I watch a funeral congregation drown their sorrow in despair

The landlord pours me another pint

As the band murder "Sweet Caroline" again

I see a sea of generations and characters collide

Please leave the segregation and the class divide outside

For within these walls the people, both rich and poor are equal, my dear friends

Illuminated by the fruit machine, beneath an England flag

I watch "Dodgy Dave" sell stolen steak out of a Tesco bag

To the cabbies who abuse ya, if you dare order an Uber for a Ching

And the poor barmaid's only 17, she's paid minimum wage

For pouring pints and serving therapy, to loners twice her age

While the battered "all-the-timers" and the shattered nine-to-fivers form a choir and sing

[Chorus]

Thank fuck, it's Friday

We're not going home

Till we're singing "My Way"

Or "Come on Eileen" to our family down the phone

Long live the local

Wherever you roam

Times are hard for the hopeful

So long live the local

[Verse 3]

Outside the vicar drinks with builders, ex-hooligans and ravers

I see the old girls from the bingo, smoking with the undertakers

While a hen-do on the breezers, and the get the badge in geezers, share a blunt

There's shattered glass beneath a sign, that reads "Please respect the neighbors"

When a rollock in a Rolex on the racket has a straightener

He thinks he's Tyson Fury but he's knocked out prematurely

What a cunt

[Verse 4]

This is a home away from home for some

Leave your troubles at the door

Where the roughest of the scum become the richest of the poor

[Chorus]

We're singing, thank fuck, it's Friday

We're not going home

Till we're singing "My Way"

Or "Come on Eileen" to our family down the phone

Long live the local

Wherever you roam

Times are hard for the hopeful

So long live the local

[Verse 5]

La la la la la la la la la la la la

La la la la la la la la la, long live the local

La la la la la la la la la la la la

La la la la la la la la la, long live the local

[Outro]

From every wake, to every wedding, every "Happy Birthday" sung

Every lock-in with the landlord, once the last order bells rung

My first bump at the urinal, my first heartbreaking cup final spent in tears

From the cradle, to the grave

From your first drink, to your last

I've watched love and life and loss

Dreamt of the future, mourned the past

From my sad days, to my bad days

To my best I've ever had days

I was here

Written by: Beatrice Munro, Louis Dunford

Подвал Shazam

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