Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Robbie Williams
Robbie Williams
Lead Vocals
Guy Chambers
Guy Chambers
Keyboards
Fil Eisler
Fil Eisler
Bass Guitar
Chris Sharrock
Chris Sharrock
Drums
Gary Nuttall
Gary Nuttall
Background Vocals
Andre Barreau
Andre Barreau
Background Vocals
Steve McEwan
Steve McEwan
Background Vocals
London Session Orchestra
London Session Orchestra
Orchestra
Gavyn Wright
Gavyn Wright
Orchestra Leader
Jim Brumby
Jim Brumby
Sound Effects
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Robbie Williams
Robbie Williams
Songwriter
Guy Chambers
Guy Chambers
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Guy Chambers
Guy Chambers
Producer
Jim Brumby
Jim Brumby
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Steve Power
Steve Power
Producer
Matt Hay
Matt Hay
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Wake up on Sunday morning Everything feels so boring Is that where it ends Live your life thru a lens Hair is the new hat, brown is the new black She shouldn't wear this he shouldn't wear that Pleasure at leisure make mine a double measure with friends Fashion tardis down at Quo Vadis Who laughs the longest who drives the hardest Pleasure at leisure make mine a double measure with friends Just because I ain't double barrelled Don't mean I haven't travelled well Can't you tell! Oh no it's quite appalling Your conversation is boring as hell, oh well! Wake up on Sunday morning And everything feels so boring Is that where it ends With your life thru a lens And now your boyfriend's suspicious So go home and wash the dishes And wash them well so he can't tell She's looking real drab just out of rehab I'm talking football she's talking ab fab Your clothes are very kitch Just because your daddy is rich You sound so funny with your voice all plummy Now your cheque's just bounced better run to your mummy And you know it's a class act she'll never ask for it back Just because I ain't double barrelled Don't mean I haven't travelled well Can't you tell! Mix with the local gentry and don't crash Tarquin's Bentley I'll take the bends with our life thru a lens You're scared of the poor and needy Is that why you're all inbreedy? They're just like you, they need love too Wake up on Sunday morning And everything feels so boring Is that where it ends With your life thru a lens And now your boyfriend's suspicious So go home and wash the dishes And wash them well so he can't tell
Writer(s): Robert Peter Williams, Guy Antony Chambers Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out