Featured In
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lola Young
Vocals
Will Brown
Drums
Jared Solomon
Bass
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lola Young
Songwriter
Will Brown
Songwriter
Jared Solomon
Songwriter
Conor Dickinson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Solomonophonic
Producer
Manuka
Producer
Nathan Phillips
Mixing Engineer
Dale Becker
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Take your shit
Out my house
You can keep
That ugly painting
That you bought
I never liked
Realism anyway
And I guess love
Comes and goes
And sometimes
It rearranges
Just hope
The next time it comes around I don't fucking hate it
You have little outbursts, it's sad
And I know that you get that from your dad
But right know I don't have time for that
You got fifteen minutes till I call your cab
And I never wanna see your face again
Oh man, ain't it sad
Got mad
The next time I see you, you'll be out
Holding hands with the girl that you claimed was just a friend
And I'll pretend
That you didn't notice me
You looked me dead in the eyes
Just walk on by
Just walk on by, by
Just walk on by
Just walk on by
Ah, just walk on
You're standing in my living room
I've got better shit to do than
To listen to you cry, I mean
It's not like it's a pleasant sight either
It's half past six in the morning
On the wrong side of the door and you
Said you got nowhere to go well
You can start with the lift to the ground floor
You have little outbursts, it's sad
And I know that you get that from your dad
But right know I don't have time for that
You got fifteen minutes till I call your cab
And I never wanna see your face again
Oh man, ain't it sad
Got mad
The next time I see you, you'll be out
Holding hands with the girl that you claimed was just a friend
And I'll pretend
That you didn't notice me
You looked me dead in the eyes
And I'll just walk on by
I'll just walk on by
I'll just walk on by
Just walk on, walk on
Just walk on by
(by, by, by, by)
Writer(s): Lola Young, William Brown, Conor Dickinson, Jared Solomon
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