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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bruce Springsteen
Bruce Springsteen
Guitar
Roy Bittan
Roy Bittan
Piano
Clarence Clemons
Clarence Clemons
Tenor Saxophone
Nils Lofgren
Nils Lofgren
Guitar
Garry Tallent
Garry Tallent
Bass
Max Weinberg
Max Weinberg
Drums
Tom Morello
Tom Morello
Guitar
Atlanta Strings
Atlanta Strings
Strings
Ed Horst
Ed Horst
String Conductor
Justin Bruns
Justin Bruns
Violin
Jay Christy
Jay Christy
Violin
Sheela Iyengar
Sheela Iyengar
Violin
John Meisner
John Meisner
Violin
Christopher Pulgram
Christopher Pulgram
Violin
William Pu
William Pu
Violin
Olga Shpitko
Olga Shpitko
Violin
Kenn Wagner
Kenn Wagner
Violin
Amy Chang
Amy Chang
Viola
Tania Maxwell
Tania Maxwell
Viola
Lachlan McBane
Lachlan McBane
Viola
Karen Freer
Karen Freer
Cello
Charae Krueger
Charae Krueger
Cello
Daniel Laufer
Daniel Laufer
Cello
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bruce Springsteen
Bruce Springsteen
Songwriter
Ed Horst
Ed Horst
String Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bruce Springsteen
Bruce Springsteen
Producer
Brendan O'Brien
Brendan O'Brien
Producer
Nick DiDia
Nick DiDia
Recording Engineer
Tom Tapley
Tom Tapley
Assistant Engineer
Billy Powers
Billy Powers
Engineer
Ron Aniello
Ron Aniello
Producer
Ross Petersen
Ross Petersen
Recording Engineer
Rob Lebret
Rob Lebret
Recording Engineer
Chris Lord-Alge
Chris Lord-Alge
Mixing Engineer
Nik Karpen
Nik Karpen
Assistant Engineer
Keith Armstrong
Keith Armstrong
Assistant Engineer
Brad Townsend
Brad Townsend
Assistant Engineer
Andrew Schubert
Andrew Schubert
Assistant Engineer
Bob Ludwig
Bob Ludwig
Mastering Engineer
Zach Russo
Zach Russo
Additional Producer
Kevin Mills
Kevin Mills
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Downtown hipsters drinking up the drug line Down in the kitchen working in the coal mine Got a special sin, mister, you can't quite confess Messy little problem, maybe baby need a new dress Razorback diamond, you shine too hard Need a hammer help you handle little trouble in your backyard Bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place When Harry speaks, it's Harry's streets In Harry's house, it's Harry's rules You don't wanna be around, brother, when Harry schools It's Harry's car, Harry's wife, Harry's dogs run Harry's town Your blood and money spit shines Harry's crown You don't fuck with Harry's money, you don't fuck Harry's girls These are the rules, this is the world You bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place You need a little shot of something to improve your health A taste of that one little weakness you allow yourself You're looking for the key of that box you locked yourself in Just step up to the line and be one of Harry's friends Shithole on the corner, no light, no sign Nobody on the street 'cept the deaf, dumb and blind Now Connor's on the couch, Father McGowan's at the bar Chief Horton's at the door checking who the fuck you are Seesaw Bobby dressed in drag and Mr. Nice Carry me into the back room and dim the lights My arms strapped to the table A thousand angels spinning up the room A voice whispers in my ear, "We do what we must do" When we bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place Nobody knows his number, nobody knows his name If he didn't exist, it'd all go on just the same Bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place Bring it on down to Harry's Place
Writer(s): Bruce Springsteen Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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