Créditos

Artistas intérpretes
The Mars Volta
The Mars Volta
Intérprete
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Guitarra
Cedric Bixler-Zavala
Cedric Bixler-Zavala
Voces
Jon Theodore
Jon Theodore
Batería
Juan Alderete
Juan Alderete
Bajo eléctrico
Ikey Owens
Ikey Owens
Teclados
Marcel Rodriguez
Marcel Rodriguez
Percusión
Larry Harlow
Larry Harlow
Piano
Adrián Terrazas
Adrián Terrazas
Flauta
Joel Derouin
Joel Derouin
Violín
Roberto Cani
Roberto Cani
Violín
Mario De Leon
Mario De Leon
Violín
Perer Kent
Perer Kent
Violín
Josefina Vergara
Josefina Vergara
Violín
Larry Corbett
Larry Corbett
Violonchelo
Wayne Bergeron
Wayne Bergeron
Trompeta
William Reichenbach
William Reichenbach
Trombón bajo
Nick Lane
Nick Lane
Trombón
Roger J. Jr. Manning
Roger J. Jr. Manning
Piano
Fernando El De La Morena
Fernando El De La Morena
Violín
Erick Hernandez
Erick Hernandez
Violín
Rosendo D Cassillas
Rosendo D Cassillas
Violín
Ernesto V Molina
Ernesto V Molina
Violín
Salvador Hernandez
Salvador Hernandez
Trompeta
Randy Jones
Randy Jones
Tuba
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Composición
Cedric Bixler-Zavala
Cedric Bixler-Zavala
Autoría
Producción e ingeniería
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Producción
Andrew Scheps
Andrew Scheps
Ingeniería de grabación
Jonathon DeBaun
Jonathon DeBaun
Ingeniería de grabación
Dave Schiffman
Dave Schiffman
Ingeniería de grabación
Paul Pilsneniks
Paul Pilsneniks
Asistente de ingeniería de grabación
Claudius Mittendorfer
Claudius Mittendorfer
Asistente de ingeniería de mezcla
Rich Costey
Rich Costey
Ingeniería de mezcla
Howie Weinberg
Howie Weinberg
Masterización
Roger Lian
Roger Lian
Masterización

Letra

I think I've become one of the others
I think I've become one of the others
I think I've become one of the others
There was a frail syrup dripping off his lap danced lapel
Punctuated by her decrepit prowl she
Washed down the hatching gizzard
Soft as a mane of needles
His orifice icicles hemorrhaged by combing her torso to a pile
Perspired the trophy shelves made room for his collapse
She was a mink handjob in sarcophagus heels
Bring me to my knees, read the sharpened lines
All my arms bled me blind
Faucet leaks in shadows
Spilling from morgue lancet
Caressed your fontanelle
I've sworn to kill every last one
Every last one
Panic in the shakes of the wounded
Panic in the worms
Onto the floor and out of your mouth and out of your eyelids
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
All your dreams splintered off
Leech by leech on this catafalque
Anyone will tell you, yes, anyone
Chance had me setting a trip wire alarm
Your mother flirted with disease
When she skinned that costume by its navel strings
Panic in the shakes of the wounded
Panic in the worms
Onto the floor and out of your mouth and out of your eyelids
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
Shockless shackles free you
Volt face cons
Abandon you again
I won't feel, not this time
Shockless shackles free you
Volt face cons
Abandon you again
I won't feel not this time (oh, yeah)
Written by: Cedric Bixler-Zavala, Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
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