Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Danko Jones
Danko Jones
Vocals
Jacob Hansen
Jacob Hansen
Background Vocals
Rob Caggiano
Rob Caggiano
Guitar
Michael Poulsen
Michael Poulsen
Vocals
Jon Larsen
Jon Larsen
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Poulsen
Michael Poulsen
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jacob Hansen
Jacob Hansen
Producer
Rob Caggiano
Rob Caggiano
Co-Producer
Michael Poulsen
Michael Poulsen
Co-Producer
Bryan Russell
Bryan Russell
Recording Engineer
Joe Barresi
Joe Barresi
Mixing Engineer
Bob Ludwig
Bob Ludwig
Mastering Engineer
Vic Florencia
Vic Florencia
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Counting days 'til it's over, my friends 'Til it's over, my friends, count along Counting days 'til it's over, my friends 'Til it's over, my friends, count along Feeling rich, feeling poor, feeling nothing more Self destructive on a rollercoaster fireball Cut her tongue, don't believe a word she says She's on a hunt, cooking cooking cooking misery Let my heart on the shelf for way too long Sick and tried, picking up from the dirty floor I saw the line of snakes that came to me So innocent were the days The taste of good memories A bag full of hope that was only for me and you No more broken dreams I feel like a loaded gun Spitting bullets at your armor of mind control Cut her tongue, don't believe a word she says She's on a hunt, cooking cooking cooking misery Cannot think, cannot talk, cannot do it right Can't call the doctor, he's as sick as you and I I saw the line of snakes that came to me So innocent were the days The taste of good memories A bag full of hope that was only for me and you So innocent were the days The taste of good memories A bag full of hope that was only for me and you Counting days 'til it's over, my friends 'Til it's over, my friends, count along Counting days 'til it's over, my friends 'Til it's over, my friends, count along Counting days 'til it's over, my friends 'Til it's over, my friends, count along Counting days 'til it's over, my friends 'Til it's over that thing called love So innocent were the days The taste of good memories A bag full of hope that was only for me and you So innocent were the days The taste of good memories A bag full of hope that was only for me and you Please let it grow, where it belongs There in the dark where the shadows are born Leave it alone I'm sure it will find its way to redeem and blossom 'Cause I know, the black rose will find its home
Writer(s): Michael Schon Poulsen Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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