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Top Room Video (MV)






Sleaford Mods - Top Room Lyrics
Official




(All them, all them, all them, all them,)
(All them skills, all that sewing, all that mekin' Marks and Spencer's knickers)

Yea, I didn't mean anythin' anymore
and I wasn't scared of worryin', f*ck that all
When the sleeps went on
and you tried to find a signal I ain't got one
Online food and distancin', I felt like shit
Well it comes so quick and all the frustration and the no sleep shit
I think I want somethin' to come out of my phone that ain't there

Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory

Uneventful, f*ck your pledge
Sod this philosophical take on where's your head
Where's mine too? Six foot outside the shop in front of you
Eyein' cars seventy miles an hour across a car park, what the f*ck for?
I feel less able to make the effort
but I can't be f*ckin arsed all I see is a desert
Not desert, I miss them Paris streets and restaurants near the church
The light from the lamp outside rolls under the end of the blind
surrounds my pillow, glow in the birch

Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me back

Oh balls you, and illicit
The scope of my language is very big, it's safe to say I'm not very good at it
Like mainstream where accents sound like ray beams
All perfect, direct, like she's just had an hoover out to her teeth n' neck
Transatlantic, he's the same, you gotta be really shit to come into the game
Trash tatters smash you, claw it
three to four hundred years left of this capitalist orgy
Change the room, let's see if we can hold the climax by switchin' up the f*ckin' mood
Hoover hoover, it's like you'd pay someone
If someone told you needed a new computer
Coz I don't f*ckin' know anythin' about 'em
Silly country, I'm a cunt, get me wallet out?
Of course sir, how much do you f*ckin' want?
Plains and rough tools, no oil and no shoes off at doors
kettle on and common decencies optional of course

Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me back

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and look

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and look

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and look

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and walk out
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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(All them, all them, all them, all them,)
(All them skills, all that sewing, all that mekin' Marks and Spencer's knickers)

Yea, I didn't mean anythin' anymore
and I wasn't scared of worryin', f*ck that all
When the sleeps went on
and you tried to find a signal I ain't got one
Online food and distancin', I felt like shit
Well it comes so quick and all the frustration and the no sleep shit
I think I want somethin' to come out of my phone that ain't there

Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory

Uneventful, f*ck your pledge
Sod this philosophical take on where's your head
Where's mine too? Six foot outside the shop in front of you
Eyein' cars seventy miles an hour across a car park, what the f*ck for?
I feel less able to make the effort
but I can't be f*ckin arsed all I see is a desert
Not desert, I miss them Paris streets and restaurants near the church
The light from the lamp outside rolls under the end of the blind
surrounds my pillow, glow in the birch

Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me back

Oh balls you, and illicit
The scope of my language is very big, it's safe to say I'm not very good at it
Like mainstream where accents sound like ray beams
All perfect, direct, like she's just had an hoover out to her teeth n' neck
Transatlantic, he's the same, you gotta be really shit to come into the game
Trash tatters smash you, claw it
three to four hundred years left of this capitalist orgy
Change the room, let's see if we can hold the climax by switchin' up the f*ckin' mood
Hoover hoover, it's like you'd pay someone
If someone told you needed a new computer
Coz I don't f*ckin' know anythin' about 'em
Silly country, I'm a cunt, get me wallet out?
Of course sir, how much do you f*ckin' want?
Plains and rough tools, no oil and no shoes off at doors
kettle on and common decencies optional of course

Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me
These roads are now the silence in no memory
Oh f*ck this
Oh send me back

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and look

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and look

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and look

I need
I call
I fill my bag and look
I fill my bag and walk
I fill my bag and walk out
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Andrew Robert Fearn, Jason Williamson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.


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