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Crédits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Robbie Williams
Robbie Williams
Leadgesang
Guy Chambers
Guy Chambers
Tasteninstrumente
Fil Eisler
Fil Eisler
Bassgitarre
Chris Sharrock
Chris Sharrock
Schlagzeug
Gary Nuttall
Gary Nuttall
Begleitgesang
Jim Brumby
Jim Brumby
Soundeffekte
Andre Barreau
Andre Barreau
Begleitgesang
Steve McEwan
Steve McEwan
Begleitgesang
London Session Orchestra
London Session Orchestra
Orchester
Gavyn Wright
Gavyn Wright
Orchesterleiter:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Robbie Williams
Robbie Williams
Songwriter:in
Guy Chambers
Guy Chambers
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Guy Chambers
Guy Chambers
Produzent:in
Jim Brumby
Jim Brumby
Mischtechnikerassistent:in
Matt Hay
Matt Hay
Aufnahmeingenieurassistent:in
Steve Power
Steve Power
Produzent:in

Paroles

Wake up on Sunday morning Everything feels so boring Is that where it ends Live your life thru a lens Hair is the new hat, brown is the new black She shouldn't wear this he shouldn't wear that Pleasure at leisure make mine a double measure with friends Fashion tardis down at Quo Vadis Who laughs the longest who drives the hardest Pleasure at leisure make mine a double measure with friends Just because I ain't double barrelled Don't mean I haven't travelled well Can't you tell! Oh no it's quite appalling Your conversation is boring as hell, oh well! Wake up on Sunday morning And everything feels so boring Is that where it ends With your life thru a lens And now your boyfriend's suspicious So go home and wash the dishes And wash them well so he can't tell She's looking real drab just out of rehab I'm talking football she's talking ab fab Your clothes are very kitch Just because your daddy is rich You sound so funny with your voice all plummy Now your cheque's just bounced better run to your mummy And you know it's a class act she'll never ask for it back Just because I ain't double barrelled Don't mean I haven't travelled well Can't you tell! Mix with the local gentry and don't crash Tarquin's Bentley I'll take the bends with our life thru a lens You're scared of the poor and needy Is that why you're all inbreedy? They're just like you, they need love too Wake up on Sunday morning And everything feels so boring Is that where it ends With your life thru a lens And now your boyfriend's suspicious So go home and wash the dishes And wash them well so he can't tell
Writer(s): Robert Peter Williams, Guy Antony Chambers Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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