Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Revivalists
Performer
Andrew Stephen Campanelli
Drums
David William Shaw
Vocals
George M Gekas
Bass
Michael Girardot
Trumpet
Robert Ingraham
Saxophone
Zachary Feinberg
Guitar
Ed Williams
Pedal Steel Guitar
Mike Dillon
Percussion
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Andrew Stephen Campanelli
Composer
Robert Ingraham
Composer
Zachary Feinberg
Composer
Michael Girardot
Songwriter
George M Gekas
Composer
David Shaw
Songwriter
Ed Williams
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ben Ellman
Producer
Songtexte
[Intro]
And I should've been murdered by now
Oh, I've got fifteen people wondering
How the hell'd he make it out
I carry this bucket of pain
And I've got 18 dollars to my motherfucking name
And it's not a life it’s a game
And I'm a two-ton wrecking ball filled with pain
And I've got a lot to say
Oh, and I'm still feeling good from yesterday
[Chorus]
So stand up, if you're out in the crowd
Get down, make the doctor proud
Stand up, if you're out in the crowd
Get down, make the doctor proud
[Verse 1]
Well, I don't know everything
But I sure wish I did
Then every time I'd catch a case
I wouldn't pop off so much at the lid
I'd have my get out of jail card
Popped cool and ready to go
And then I'd pay my tax and bail money
'Cause I'm a taxpaying fool
So we gotta
[Chorus]
Stand up, if you're out in the crowd
Get down, make the doctor proud
Stand up, if you're out in the crowd
Get down, make the doctor proud
Stand up
Get down
Stand up
Get down
Take it away
[Verse 2]
He's a little boy with a son and a daughter
He's got no wife no he's got no father
He's just trying to make it through
This hard, hard winter
Toes freezin', no reason he's got no dinner
He's a product of the music
A product of his time
A product of addiction in a very long line
Of users and abusers who just couldn't
Keep it straight, oh, man I wish I didn't know one
I hope it ain't too late
So won't you call your mama
Call your daddy, you can call your sister too
'Cause we've been out here walking that hard line
You never ever could've made it through
[Verse 3]
And now we're seven hundred billion strong
We still can't tell right from wrong
So I'm gonna keep on dreaming until the cows come home
When drug store America starts taking care of their own
Start taking care of their own
Yeah, yeah
So we gotta
[Chorus]
Stand up, if you're out in the crowd
Get down, make the doctor proud
Stand up, if you're out in the crowd
Get down, make the doctor proud
Stand up
Get down
Stand up
Get down
[Instrumental]
Oh, you gotta stand up
Ooh, yeah
Living for this feeling
We've got nowhere to go
Stand up
Oh, yeah
I'm living for this feeling
I've got nowhere to go
Stand up
Oh, yeah
Living for this feeling
We've got nowhere to go
Stand up
Written by: Andrew Stephen Campanelli, David William Shaw, Edward George Williams, George M Gekas, Michael Girardot, Robert Ingraham, Zachary Feinberg