Top de canções de Will Wood
Créditos
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Will Wood
Klavier
Mario Conte
Schlagzeug
Matt Berger
Altsaxofon
Mike Bottiglieri
Gitarre
Robert Schaefer
Trompete
Seamus Ronan
Baritonsaxofon
Vater Boris
Kontrabass
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Will Wood
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Jonathon Maisto
Mischtechniker:in
Kevin Guillorn
Zusätzliche:r Ingenieur:in
Letra
My grip on my secrets slipping while I'm speaking in tongues
Screaming at the top of my lungs in the confession booth
Take it with a pillar of salt, H.A.L.T., it's not my fault
The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to
I'm cut from a different kind of meat
More than you can chew, hard to swallow me
Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis, call it morbid curiosity how I
Cannot commit to reality, when my third eye's open and I like what I see
Baby, I may be crazy, but I didn't lose it, no, I set it free
I can't ignore what's under dance floorboards
The rhythm of my heart, a dead-as-disco beat
But I still move my feet to slip out of this groove, I'm free
Now, to row, row, row my boat over the falls
And maybe wake up from but a dream, yeah
I'm just a psycho, babe, come and go out my mind
I didn't lose it, babe, there wasn't much to find
I'm just a psycho, babe, come and go out my mind
I'm only passing through
If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see
You'd look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream
And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep
But I got facts, and I'm not afraid to use 'em
Take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front
Some days I'm glad that I am a madman, and I'd rather be that than
An amicable animal, mild-mannered cannibal
But I'm more level-headed and clever than ever
And I'm getting better one forever at a time, and if
Sick is defined by what's different, well, then pull the plug out and let me die
Vice versa, vice versus virtue, well who I am I choose through all the things I do
And if it rhymes, it's true, but I hate poetry
Now with my moral compass pointing south, going down
With no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no respect for reality
I'm just a psycho, babe, come and go out my mind
I didn't lose it, babe, there wasn't much to find
I'm just a psycho, babe, come and go out my mind
I'm only passing through, oh
I'm just a psycho, babe, come and go out my mind
I didn't lose it, babe, there wasn't much to find
I'm just a psycho, babe, come and go out my mind
A tourist passing through!
Well, that was fun, goodbye!
Writer(s): Will Wood
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