Homestudio Sample
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Oh London. How I love you, you wonderful city. I adore you. You shine and you glimmer like a star in the night, dipped in moonshine. The most beautiful sight. But wait, here comes the morning with its sunlight. You're blinding me sunshine and I'm not ready. It's not time. But I'm out and standing in line with too many people. All in a rush. Too much litter and all of us squashed on the trains between armpits and noses, no seat remains. And a dozen smell of roses, furrowed brows on miserable faces of businessmen with dead gazes. Sorry, excuse me, I need to get through. Sorry, cheers. Why? Thank you. He stepped on my shoe. I can't breathe. It's too hot and I'm inhaling the rot. I can see it in my tissue paper. When I get back home later. There's black in my snot. It's almost like the mold in my bathroom which is damp and old. Single glazing and it's cold. How did this chaos unfold? I beg back the moon with its darker kinder light hiding the cracks and the crooks in its beautiful moonlight. Moon. Bring back the night. We can go and pretend that all is well and that this isn't ****. We'll go dance with our friend who we haven't seen in a year though. He lives really near but who here has time a minute to spare a moment to share. We have ladders to climb money to make though. We're always broke like the next door bloke. So we flake on that drink with our mates. Yet we go on a date with some girl that looked fine on that picture online, four gin and tonics with lime and we're off to a flat shared with four strangers and a rat. Once in the door drank sex in the grime of her creaky room floor. It's a night to remember for sure I'm sick. I'm sick of it. I felt sick the next day back at home as I lay on my bed and my back is all red and sore and I'm plagued by regret. The sun is back out. It won't let me forget and it's shining so bright moon. You can't win this fight, try all you want. But the grime and the gore, it's fresh and it's raw London. You're merely a dream. You're not what you seem, you're pretty at night, but you can be rotten to and yet I love you. Despite all the **** you put me through