Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Youth Sector
Youth Sector
Performer
Nicholas Tompkins
Nicholas Tompkins
Lead Vocals
Joshua Matthew Terence Doyle
Joshua Matthew Terence Doyle
Electric Bass Guitar
Nicholas Andrew Smith
Nicholas Andrew Smith
Synthesizer
Steve Ray
Steve Ray
Drums
Bradley Moore
Bradley Moore
Electric Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nicholas Tompkins
Nicholas Tompkins
Songwriter
Joshua Matthew Terence Doyle
Joshua Matthew Terence Doyle
Songwriter
Nicholas Andrew Smith
Nicholas Andrew Smith
Songwriter
Steve Ray
Steve Ray
Songwriter
Bradley Moore
Bradley Moore
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Youth Sector
Youth Sector
Producer
Spencer Withey
Spencer Withey
Engineer
Richard Wilkinson
Richard Wilkinson
Mixing Engineer
Antony Ryan
Antony Ryan
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Buy for less, sell for more
Buy for less and sell for more
It has no value if it's yours
From yesterday or the day before
But knock, knock, they're at the door
Minutes early as usual
Don't they know that it's poor form?
Now hang their coats on the wall
Feed your guests til they are all
Incapable of eating more
Of moving from the table freely
Come on and make them greedy
Sick it up then eat some more
Sick it up then eat some more
Sick it up then eat some more
On the walls, on the floor
Oh my god
Am I here all alone?
Sometimes it feels like it
God
Do you mean to make me feel alone?
'Cause sometimes it feels like it
Build the church, burn it down
Build the church then burn it down
Holy water can't put it out
Now kill the clergy and wear their gowns
Close the gates into the town
No getting in, nor getting out
No moving from their houses freely
Come on and make them needy
Sick it up then eat some more
Sick it up then eat some more
Sick it up then eat some more
On the walls, on the floor
Oh my god
Am I here all alone?
Sometimes it feels like it
God
Do you mean to make me feel alone?
'Cause sometimes it feels like it
It's raining it's pouring
The fans are adoring
The crumbs that you gave them
That fell from the table
And served from your outstretched hands
The blade that is so slow to sink in
So steady, unblinking
That slides in so lightly
So gently, politely
Is not blocked or parried
No, it's gratefully carried
Through the heart, through the chest
Through the brain and through the neck
Through the skin, through the teeth
Through the ribs and underneath
Through the heart, through the chest
Through the brain and through the neck
Through the skin, through the teeth
Through the ribs
Oh my god
Am I here all alone?
Sometimes it feels like it
God
Do you mean to make me feel alone?
'Cause sometimes it feels like it
God
Am I here all alone?
Sometimes it feels like
My god
Do you mean to make me feel alone?
'Cause sometimes it feels like it
Written by: Bradley Moore, Joshua Matthew Terence Doyle, Nicholas Andrew Smith, Nicholas Tompkins, Steve Ray
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