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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Associates
The Associates
Guitar
Alan Rankine
Alan Rankine
Guitar
Billy Mackenzie
Billy Mackenzie
Vocals
Michael Dempsey
Michael Dempsey
Bass Guitar
Stephen Goulding
Stephen Goulding
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Alan Rankine
Alan Rankine
Composer
Billy Mackenzie
Billy Mackenzie
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Associates
The Associates
Producer
Mike Hedges
Mike Hedges
Producer

Lyrics

You gave up my career, promotion was in sight
And just to keep the peace I keep my mouth shut
(Shut, shut, shut)
Filling hours with others takes up too much time
I'm always catching colds, I never seem to shake them off
(Off, off... Shut up!)
You're never coming home
I cook some food for you
It lies there getting cold
And then I clean my shoes
And then I clean my shoes
I've got so many shoes
And then, within the same breath, you turn around and say
It's just that I've never been in the position
As to something sensible being drawn out of me
I had this awful dream that all my teeth fell out
I couldn't live this way, so I slept for days on end
(Shut, shut, shut)
If my leg was made of wood you would have never talked to me
And so it goes to show that all you want's above the knee
(Off, off... Shut up!)
You're never coming home
I cook some food for you
It lies there getting cold
And then I clean my shoes
And then I clean my shoes...
And then, within the same breath, you turn around and say
It's just that I've never been in the position
As to something sensible being drawn out of me
You're never coming home
I cook some food for you
It lies there getting cold
And then I clean my shoes
And then...
Written by: Alan Rankine, Billy Mackenzie
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