about
A song about nights out, running out of funds for a taxi, and alchohol fuelled misfortune.
lyrics
It’s that time again, the two day off work weekend,
And I’ll wait for the text that asks, are we heading town then lads?
Grab some beers, we'll buy some fags,
Hit the road, clean rags.
And if you don’t know by now what you’re missing, then hear my story out as we sway.
And if you don’t know by now what you’re missing, just hear my story out as we sway.
They’ll be damaged egos, and texts with no kisses,
And every fit girl here is somebody's missus,
They’ll be dirty dance floors, that stink of feet,
That girls mate who’s a bit too sweet to be here,
And she never cared, but it don’t worry me,
We'll do it all again next week.
And if you don’t know by now what you’re missing, then hear my story out as we sway.
And if you don’t know by now what you’re missing, just hear my story out as we sway.
Open eyes, bathroom floor,
Morning after, the night before,
Probably shouldn’t, but I smile,
I’m sure I’ll remember why in a while,
And she never cared, but it don’t worry me,
Do it all again next week.
And if you don’t know by now what you’re missing, then hear my story out as we sway,
And if you don’t know by now what you’re missing, just hear my story out as we sway.
And it’s a long walk home.
And it’s a long walk home.
And it’s a long walk home. (If you don’t know by now)
And it’s a long walk home. (If you don’t know by now)
credits
released February 16, 2013
All music composed and performed by The Fine Art Society: -
Ben Marshall: Guitar/Vocals
Matt Turner: Guitar/ Vocals
Max Chambers: Bass Guitar
Dan Campbell: Drums
Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Max Chambers
Photography by Lance Marshall
Many Thanks To Max's Fan Heater For Keeping Us Warm In The Icy Grip Of His House.
license
all rights reserved