Vídeo musical

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Paul Leary
Paul Leary
Guitar
Danno Saratak
Danno Saratak
Programming
Gibby Haynes
Gibby Haynes
Vocals
King Coffey
King Coffey
Drums
Mark Eddinger
Mark Eddinger
Keyboards
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Paul Leary
Paul Leary
Songwriter
Gibson Jerome Haynes
Gibson Jerome Haynes
Songwriter
Jeffrey Scott Coffey
Jeffrey Scott Coffey
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Steve Thompson
Steve Thompson
Producer
Christopher Shaw
Christopher Shaw
Mixing Engineer
Paul Leary
Paul Leary
Producer
Stuart Sullivan
Stuart Sullivan
Mixing Engineer

Letras

Marky got with Sharon, Sharon got Sherice She was sharin' Sharon's outlook on the topic of disease Mikey had a facial scar, and Bobby was a racist They were all in love with dyin', they were doin' it in Texas Tommy played piano like a kid out in the rain Then he lost his leg in Dallas, he was dancin' with a train They were all in love with dyin', they were drinking from a fountain That was pourin' like an avalanche comin' down the mountain I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies You never know just how you look through other people's eyes Some will die in hot pursuit in fiery auto crashes Some will die in hot pursuit while sifting through my ashes Some will fall in love with life and drink it from a fountain That is pouring like an avalanche comin' down the mountain I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies You never know just how you look through other people's eyes Another Mikey took a knife while arguing in traffic Flipper died a natural death, he caught a nasty virus Then there was the ever present football player-rapist They were all in love with dyin', they were doin' it in Texas Paulie caught a bullet, but it only hit his leg Well, it should have been a better shot, and got him in the head They were all in love with dyin', they were drinkin' from a fountain That was pourin' like an avalanche comin' down the mountain I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies You never know just how you look through other people's eyes
Writer(s): Paul Walthall, Gibson Haynes, Jeffrey Coffey, Jeffrey Pinkus Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out