Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Alex Turner
Vocals
Chris Woods
Violin
Gina Kronstadt
Violin
Ian Walker
Contrabass
James Ford
Drums
John Krovoza
Cello
Leah Katz
Viola
Marisa Kuney
Violin
Miles Kane
Guitar
Owen Pallett
Conductor
Peggy Baldwin
Cello
Richard Dodd
Cello
Rodney Wirtz
Viola
Zachary Dawes
Bass Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Alex Turner
Songwriter
Owen Pallett
String Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
James Ford
Producer
Brian Lucey
Mastering Engineer
Ross Hogarth
Recording Engineer
Sean Oakley
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
I just sort of always feel sick without you, baby
I ain't got anything to lick without you, baby
Nothing seems to stick without you, baby
Ain't I fallen in love?
It's just the pits without you, baby
It's really just the pits without you, baby
It's like everyone's a dick without you, baby
Ain't I fallen in love?
And all my pals will tell me is that I'm crazy
You bet I'm loopy, alright
And I just don't recognise
This fool that you have made me
Whoa, I ain't seen him for a while
And as your shrinking figure blows a kiss
I catch and smash it on my lips
Darling, I can't seem to quit
Completely falling to bits
I really might be losing it
The idea that you've existed
All along's ridiculous
I don't know what to say
Baby, we ought to fuck
Seven years of bad luck out
The parlour room mirror
Could I have made it any clearer?
It's love like a tongue in a nostril
Love like an ache in the jaw
You're the first day of spring
With a septum piercing
Little Miss Sweet Dreams, Tennessee
Writer(s): Alex Turner
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