Known as an all out rocker that normally has thousands of people bouncing along with a mix of anger, frustration and passion, Sam Fender's most famous song has lyrics that go straight to the heart of the desperation many teenagers feel today, trapped in a downward spiral of drink, drugs and dead end lives.
This wonderful acoustic version sung by Fender and fellow North East songwriter, Holly Humberstone, throws an added layer of poignancy into the mix, that just tugs at the heart strings.
The song chronicles Fender's life at 17 when his mother, Shirley was afflicted with firbomyalgia and became depressed because she could no longer work after 40 years of service as a nurse. Having become the owner of her apartment at 19 and having never missed a day at work, the Department for Work and Pensions (the DWP mentioned in the song) began harassing her with letters and treating her unjustly.
Fender recalls: "That's when my rose-tinted glasses fell off." The song is a letter to his 17 year old self, explaining: "17 is
when all the challenges begin: you're not a baby, but you're definitely
not an adult able to solve the problem. And sometimes with everything going on around you feel as if you are going under."
I remember the sickness was forever I remember snuff videos Cold Septembers, the distances we covered The fist fights on the beach, the bizzies round us up Do it all again next week
An embryonic love The first time that it scarred Embarrass yourself for someone Crying like a child And the boy who kicked Tom's head in Still bugs me now That's the thing, it lingers And claws you when you're down
I was far too scared to hit him But I would hit him in a heartbeat now That's the thing with anger It begs to stick around So it can fleece you of your beauty And leave you spent with nowt to offer Makes you hurt the ones who love you
You hurt them like they're nothing (Oh, oh) You hurt them like they're nothing (Oh, oh)
See I spent my teens enraged Spiralin' in silence And I armed myself with a grin 'Cause I was always the fuckin' joker Buried in their humor
Amongst the white noise and boys' boys Locker-room talkin' lads' lads Drenched in cheap drink and snide fags A mirrored picture of my old man Oh God, the kid's a dab hand Canny chanter, but he looks sad
God, the kid looks so sad God, the kid looks so sad
She said the debt, the debt, the debt So I thought about shifting gear And how she wept and wept and wept Well, luck came and died 'round here
I see my mother The DWP see a number She cries on the floor encumbered I'm seventeen going under
I'm seventeen going under (Oh, oh) I'm seventeen going under (oh, oh) (Oh, oh) I'm seventeen going under (oh, oh) (Oh, oh) I'm seventeen going under (oh, oh) (Oh, oh) (Oh)
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