Sam Fender
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Sam Fender

Seventeen Going Under

This is where I make my stand
In the corner of the hotel room with a receiver in one hand
Holdin' on to the waning sound
Of a crackled voice on a dodgy line
With a stomach full of piss-cheap wine
There's one last drink to sink with you
Before these fuckers want me through

I haven't been the best of men
Morality is an evolving thing
I can blame the times, I can blame the weeks
I can blame the things that we sow as kids
I'm a waster darling, and I'll tell it straight
With all my failures on a platе
She picks at them and doesn't chеw
And spits them out for me to view

This place is full of poltergeists
And tonight I'll join them when I die

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