TV Dinner-Sam Fender

歌手 : Sam Fender

专辑 : People Watching

语种 : 英语

时长 : 04:30

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TXT TV Dinner-Sam Fender 文本歌词

TV Dinner - Sam Fender

Lyrics by：Sam Fender

Composed by：Sam Fender

Produced by：Sam Fender/Adam Granduciel

Hypothesise a hero's rise and teach them all to then despise

It is our way to make a king romanticise how they begin

Fetishize their struggling while all the while they're suffering

In every worming memory of what they truly are

The rigmarole the tortured soul the constant spin the merry-go

Roundhouse-kick into the face sheer loss of private space

The moths the snakes the tiny waist-coat tail riders suck the grace

And little colour out my face the cancer in a padlock case

No one gets into my space

The market before anything

The darkest days are yet to sing

Like Winehouse she was just a bairn

They love her now but bled her then

They reared me as a class clown

Grass fed little cash cow

I cashed out headed hell bound

And now they point and laugh

No one gets in to my space

Am I up to this?

No one gets in

I'll sell my story when it's true I'll paint a pretty pic of you

I'll walk amongst the ones who walk and talk when I am born

I'm in the embryonic state

On borrowed time I clean my plate

With a TV dinner I spectate

The ***** all gesticulate

The chip on shoulder pulsates my hatred it mutates

Had me irate we said 'we're all the same'

Are you wild?

Do you have enemies?

A start with no amenities?

A mark that bleeds a legacy?

A spark without tuition fee?

A darkness that they envy?

They frenzy to befriend me

But I know ye you'll sell me

You'll sell me you'll kill me

No one gets into my space

Am I up to this?

No one gets in

To my space