A very common situation that Joy Crookes wants to transform from this experience into a song that can cure the pain of heartbreak.
The artist tells her story under the motto "It's not math, it's love," accompanied by a piano melody. Using violin, drums, and higher notes in the chorus, the English artist shows a journey that begins playfully, gradually turning into the pain of incompatibility, and ending positively with the healing process.
Joy Crookes. Our Saturday music video. (Official Music Video). METALOCUS MUSIC PROJECT.
Credits.-
Lead vocals.- Joy Crookes (British singer-songwriter) and Kano (UK hip‐hop artist).
Producer and mixer.- Blue May.
Bass guitar.- Alex Bonfanti.
Cello.- Rachel Lander and Klara Romac.
Drums (drum set).- Nathan Allen.
Percussion.- Oli Savill.
Piano.- Sam Beste.
Viola.- Jo Galtin and Amy Stanford.
Violin.- Elodie Chousmer-Howelles, Sarah Daramy-Williams (violinst), James Douglas (cellist), Marianne Hayes, Blaize Henry, Gita Langley, Rosie Langley, Phillipa Mo, Jessie Murphy, Kotono Sato (Japanese violinist), Sarah Sexton (Irish violinist) and Eleanor Stanford.
Strings arranger.- Amy Langley.
Orchestrator.- Amy Langley.
Recording of.- Mathematics.
Writer.- Sam Beste, Joy Crookes (British singer-songwriter), Kane Robinson (UK hip‐hop artist), Barney Lister and Matt Maltese.
Lyrics.-
verse
This ain′t a movie, that ain't a heart attack
You might have the good hand, but you won′t be the last man
I got a little less each time there's someone new
Get in the deep end just to say we should be friends
But I don't wanna be your backup part
Used to wanna conquer your whole heart
chorus
Tired, crying on the salon floor
I′m pretty but I′m miserable
Goodbye, good luck tryna work it out
Oh baby, it's not mathematics, it′s love
verse
Had you on the kitchen floor, quiet in the parking lot
Damn, that shit was wonderful
Now I'm single at the tennis court, lost in the superstore
Holding down a 24
All that′s left is your t-shirt
You're a bruise and it still hurts
chorus
Tired, crying on the salon floor
Ooh, I′m pretty fucking miserable
Goodbye, good luck tryna work it out
Oh baby, it's not mathematics, it's love
bridge
I frequent lit locations, whipping spaceships
There′s no saving the ship from sailing
Distant neighbors were so close
Take me back when I get back home
Question-free ducks got me looking at restaurants, hence done
Roses I read like my message was left on
Baker′s dozen want my cake 'cause of course I wanna taste of somethin′
Maybe your grass would've been greener without this shade you′re chuckin'
Maybe my heart would′ve been cleaner without you surging cupboards
Used to dance away the demons
Now your evenings be mascara staining Kleenex, blaming me gets
chorus
Tired, crying on the salon floor
Oh, I'm pretty fucking miserable
Goodbye, good luck tryna work it out
Oh baby, it's not mathematics
It′s not mathematics
It′s not mathematics, it's love
outro
But he don′t see that
