Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Wombats
Musician
Tord Øverland Knudsen
Bass Guitar
Dan Haggis
Drums
Matthew Murphy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tord Øverland Knudsen
Songwriter
Dan Haggis
Songwriter
Matthew Murphy
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Wombats
Producer
Tord Øverland Knudsen
Producer
Darren Jones
Additional Engineer
Justin Long
Additional Engineer
Robert Whiteley
Additional Engineer
Willy Scooby
Additional Engineer
Zorg Albini
Additional Engineer
Chris Galland
Mixing Engineer
Ike Schultz
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Jess Jackson
Mixing Engineer
Cian Riordan
Assistant Recording Engineer
Dan Priddy
Assistant Recording Engineer
Dan Haggis
Producer
Matthew Murphy
Producer
Stephen Marcussen
Mastering Engineer
Manny Marroquin
Mixing Engineer
Mark Crew
Producer
Eric Valentine
Recording Engineer
Jonathan Sagis
Additional Engineer
Lyrics
Headspace, I need her out of my headspace
There's a war in here and I need you to take
Take her out of my headspace
Gonna drive, drive, drive this Cadillac
Up the ocean road until it runs out of gas
'Cause I'm hurt
I laugh and I joke but I'm hurt
I'm gonna sing, sing, sing my new swan-song
So all the bright young sparks have got a tune they can hum
But it'll hurt
I'll dance if they ask but it'll hurt
Headspace, I need her out of my headspace
There's a war in here and I need you to take
Take her out of my headspace
Did these 5.5 litres of blood
Have too sour a taste
For your sweet tastebuds?
'Cause now I feel, feel, feel like a discoball
From the 1970s all dusty and worn
And it hurts
I reflect the light, but it hurts
I used to run, run, run until my knees gave way
I used to wrestle with bears and kiss poisonous snakes
I didn't care
They scratch and they'd bite, I didn't care
I didn't care
Headspace, I need her out of my headspace
There's a war in here and it's a body to save
Well, take her out of my headspace
Did these 5.5 litres of blood
Have too sour a taste
For your sweet taste buds?
You put a war zone inside me
Above and below the neck
Above and below the neck
Someone flick a light on
The dark just makes it worse
I'm running out of options and I'm lost for words
Little life wrecker, are you gonna let me know
Or keep showing me the compassion of a talkshow host?
I'm not acting my age here and I'm growing up too fast
If these streets are paved with gold
I want my money back
'Cause Liverpool feels like a clouded memory
Now the Californian air has wrapped her claws around me
(Headspace, my headspace)
She wrapped her claws around me
(Headspace, my headspace)
Writer(s): Matthew Murphy, Tord Knudsen, Daniel Haggis
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