Manchester 1980

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Noam Fainer

3:18

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It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same!

You wake up yawning the same old bed
Down the same old house, living in the same old town
You go out for a run down the same old roads thinking the same old thoughts one day I'll be a fucking star
You get anxious in the same old way hearing the alarm buzzing and the rockets flying high above your head
with the same old sigh

It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same
It sounds the same

Everybody wants u to get the same old job aunts and uncles feel sorry for you
Everybody wants you to be the same old guy nobody knows greatness everyone just knows sighs

You walk the streets of the same old town with the Same old dirty jeans with holes on the right pocket so you gotta be aware on where you put your stuff so it doesn't fall off
You're abusing your lungs in the same old cowboy style
running 5km in the morning and smoking cheap tobacco you bought at the gas station at night
You're getting too thin too fast feeling like Timothee Chalamet for one night after you shaved just to eat like a pig the next day and waking up fat with disgusting ingrownhairs and scruffs
You get sad thinking about the same women the ones you tried to charm like an actor and the same friends who suddenly got out of your life

Up in the morning
Went for a run
I got a head full of ideas and I wanna buy a gun
I stopped smoking
I wanna buy a home
Play on my stereo my favorite songs
It's hard to get out
When you know that you might be dead
By a fucking rocket and or bullet in the head
I try to be dope but sometimes I am sad
I feel my parents tap my head
They want me out

Out of my bed!
Out of my bed!
Out of my bed!
Out of my bed!
Out of my bed!
Out of my bed!
Out of my bed!

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