code-ginger:

Here you have Ed Sheeran reading a fanfic that someone wrote on tumblr.

(Source: edslover)

edorable-ed:

eddie-westside:

leaving-words:

FULL LYRICS (OF ED SHEERAN’S PART) OF THE ‘YNMIDNY’ ITUNES FESTIVAL 2012 VERSION:


Now I’m in town, break it down,
Thinking of making a new sound
Playing a different show every night in front of a new crowd
That’s you now, ciao, seems that life is great now
See me lose focus as I sing to you loud
And I can’t, no, I won’t hush,
I say the words that make you blush
I’m gonna sing this now, ow, ow

See, I’m true, my songs are where my heart is
I’m like glue, I stick to other artists
I’m not you, now that would be disastrous
Let me sing and do my thing and move to greener pastures
See, I’m real, I do it all, it’s all me
I’m not fake, don’t ever call me lazy
I won’t stay put, give me the chance to be free
Suffolk sadly seems to sort of suffocate me, hey

[Chorus]
‘Cos you need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all

I sing, I write my own tune and I write my own verse, hell
Don’t need another wordsmith to make the tune sell
Call yourself a singer-writer, you’re just bluffing
Name’s on the credits and you didn’t write nothing
I sing fast, I know that all my shit’s cool
I will blast and I didn’t go to BRIT School
I came fast with the way I act, right
I can’t last, if I’m smoking on a crack pipe

And I won’t be a product of my genre
My mind will always be stronger than my songs are
Never believe the bullshit that fake guys feed to ya
Always read the stories that you hear in Wikipedia
And musically I’m demonstrating
When I perform live feels like I am meditating
Times at The Enterprise when some fella filmed me
Young singer-writer like a Gabriella Cilmi, yeah

[Chorus]

All I want in this cold world is to make music and use it
Not to abuse it and get affected, infected with the who’s who of music
Who did it, who is it, who’s in it, who …what the hell does it matter?
Chitter chatter, don’t matter, yidder, yidder, yadder
It don’t matter to me
All I want is a bit of dignity in me to battle this industry freely
To be me in this seedy, needy world, can you hear me?
Hey, so I keep singing out

When I first started this rapping shit I felt pressure from haters
Became invaded with sadists and just developed a hater radar
I made for the stars, kept my grime in the dark
And then appeared with a remedy kicking rhymes with a melody
Hennesey shots and all these fools on the block
Who said you gotta be a gangster now to raise to the top?
I’m just a normal, casual, usual, everyday type of guy
With my head in the sky

Ed Sheeran, Urban Angel coming ready to die
So see the signs, stand to the side
Open your eyes and take a look and realise
The resurrection’s arrived
And as the mist clears, I arise
From my tomb in disguise I’m all alone,
Alonestar Urban Angel rising from the ashes
Surprising all haters, guiding, to move steady

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
I’m into having sex, I ain’t into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rough
You can find me in the club club, bottle full of bubbly
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
I’m into having sex, I ain’t into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rough

‘Cos you need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you (x 20)

My eyes are red,
I’ve been burning, I’ve been burning
My eyes are red,
I’ve been burning, I’ve been burning
My eyes are red, I’ve been burning,
I’ve been burning on a spliff of your high-grade
My eyes are red, I’ve been burning,
I’ve been burning burning burning

Now where I come from burning weed it is a habit
A big fat bag of high-grade weed you know I’ve got to have it
Cause if I don’t have it in my pocket I’m going to panic
‘Cause like I say where I come from weed smoking is a habit
Yeah dude we burn this place up in the hood
One of the things I have inherited like a ghetto man should
One of them things is smoking weed yes it makes me feel good
But high-grade sensimillia yes it makes me feel

But me is a man talk about semsimillia is a drug
And if I start smoking it I’m gonna turn into a thug
Where I come from all that talking it could only get you mugged
Where I come from burning weed it is a blessing from above
Where I come from yes we burn it when we listen rob a dove
Where I come from we burn it after we rasta make love
Where I come from we burn it when the sun starts to shine
I blaze high-grade weed all the time

Welcome to Jamrock, camp whe’ da’ thugs them camp at
Two pounds a weed inna van back
It inna your hand bag, your knapsack, it inna your back pack
The smell a give yah girlfriend contact
Some boy nuh know dis, them only come around like tourist
On the beach with a few club sodas
Bedtime stories, and pose like them name Chuck Norris
And don’t know the real hardcore
Cause Sandals a no ‘back-to’, da thugs Dem wi do whe’ them got to
And won’t think twice to shot you
Don’t make them spot you, unless you carry guns a lot too
Because you don’t stand a chance in town so

Now my eyes are red
You need me man, I don’t need you
You need me man, my eyes are red
You need me man, I don’t need you
You need me man, my eyes are red
You need me man, I don’t need you
You need me man, my eyes are red
You need me man, I don’t need you
Woah (x 7)

[Instrumental Bridge]

‘Cos with the lyrics I’ll be aiming it right, I won’t stop till my name is in lights
At stadium heights with Damien Rice, on red carpets, now I’m on Arabian nights
‘Cause I’m young I know my brother’s gonna give me advice
Long nighter, short height and I’m going hyper
Never be anything but a singer-songwriter
Yeah, the game’s over but now I’m on a new level
Watch how I step on the track without a loop pedal

People think that I’m bound to blow up,
I’ve done around about a thousand shows
But I haven’t got a house plus I live on the couch
So you believe the lyrics when I’m singing them out, wow
From day one, I’ve been prepared, with VO5 wax for my ginger hair
So now I’m back to the sofa giving a dose of what the future holds
‘Cos it’s another day

Rucksack full of old clothes
I rap with the cold flows
I’m back with the old jokes
In fact you don’t know
On tracks I throw blows to make my punch-lines relevant
If you can’t keep up you’ll get none you’ll sell a bit
My flows developing
Skin lacks the melanin
Give me a shot of adrenaline and I get it in
I do it for the hell of it
‘Cause ever since I hit the mainstream with The A Team
I seem to sell a bit

I took what helped me back with the women
Packaged the image and then I sold it back as a gimmick
The fact is this; I’ll end up dating actresses
Wake up on dirty mattresses; I think I need to practice this
Gonna make shit happen, call me a laxative
World’s on my shoulders, I don’t even know what Atlas is
Hard bars sharp like a cactus is
I’m back to rapping back-to-back ‘cause I’ve been practicing
I’m about to sing this

[Chorus]

I keep my last name forever, keep the genre pretty basic
Gonna be breaking into other people’s tunes when I chase it
And replace it with the elephant in the room with a facelift Into another rapper’s shoes using new laces
Selling CD’s from my rucksack aiming for the papers
Selling CD’s from my rucksack aiming for majors
Nationwide tour with Just Jack, I still had to get the bus back
Clean-cut kid without a razor for the moustache

I hit back when the pen hurts me,
I’m still a choir boy in a Fenchurch tee
I’m still the same as a year ago but more people hear me though
According to the MySpace and YouTube videos
I’m always doing shows if I’m not I’m in the studio
Truly broke, never growing up call me Rufio
Melody music maker, reading all the papers
They say I’m up-and-coming like I’m fucking in an elevator

[Chorus]

I spend hours, days, weeks, months and almost a year (not literally) figuring this all out, so please give me credit when you reblog this piece of musical poetry! :)

ed fucking sheeran. he deserves more credit than he gets. wow.

(Source: reubenmartens)

youngwolfofthenorth:

Okay so Ed Sheeran and Samuel L Jackson’s friendship is my favorite thing

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SLJ posted this selfie at Ed’s concert 

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and then Ed posted this selfie of them together 

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the-spirit-evolution:

We all Know Evan Peters as American Horror story Lobster Boy:

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Tate:

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and Kyle:

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 BUT

Some of us also remember him as this dork from Phil of the future.

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Never forget Seth Wosner.

sarahgraceglynn