Poslechněte si God, Country, Grave (Live on WRST, 10/25/2012) od interpreta Mutts

God, Country, Grave (Live on WRST, 10/25/2012)

Mutts

Indie Rock

Apple Music Note

přehrát celou skladbu

PŘEHLED

TEXTY

Kredity

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Mutts

Performer

Mike Maimone

Lead Vocals

Chris Pagnani

Percussion

Bob Buckstaff

Acoustic Guitar

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Mutts

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Mike Maimone

Producer

Texty

Her tongue told of scrambled eggs and cigarettes,

Not her notebook full of I-just-haven't-yet's.

She greets me in the morning with her Listerine kisses.

Her Game Genie daddy grants her endless wishes.

Jesus took a shower down Venice Beach,

Washing off the salt from the waves.

Her Daddy's in the church underneath a flag.

You know what they say, God, Country, Grave.

Skyscrapers cover up the harvest moon.

Feeling like a seed cast on stone.

A night so cold it was itchin'

It ain't just the roots that won't leave her alone.

No it's not the girl, and it's not the war

It ain't the general, or his orders

It's not the getting lost, or the cost or the fate

It's the thought you hate.

I would

I would

I would

I'd take it all back, but it's no good

I would

I would

I would

I'd take it all back, if I could

Written by: Mutts

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