Créditos

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Will Wood
Will Wood
Klavier
Mario Conte
Mario Conte
Schlagzeug
Matt Berger
Matt Berger
Altsaxofon
Mike Bottiglieri
Mike Bottiglieri
Gitarre
Robert Schaefer
Robert Schaefer
Trompete
Seamus Ronan
Seamus Ronan
Baritonsaxofon
Vater Boris
Vater Boris
Kontrabass
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Will Wood
Will Wood
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Jonathon Maisto
Jonathon Maisto
Mischtechniker:in
Kevin Guillorn
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 Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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