DESCRIPCIÓN

LETRA

Créditos

ARTISTAS INTÉRPRETES
Bastien Brisson
Bastien Brisson
Batería
Julien Aime
Julien Aime
Bajo
Alexis Poirson
Alexis Poirson
Guitarra
Marie Lambert
Marie Lambert
Violín
Géraldine Rocher
Géraldine Rocher
Violín
Fanny Poignon
Fanny Poignon
Viola
Guillaume Ternoy
Guillaume Ternoy
Violonchelo
Mélanie Pierrat
Mélanie Pierrat
Flauta
Pauline Rouet-Chabaux
Pauline Rouet-Chabaux
Oboe
Lazare Akili
Lazare Akili
Clarinete
Audrey Deny
Audrey Deny
Fagot
Olivier Tuaillon
Olivier Tuaillon
Trompeta
Arnaud Will Schmitt
Arnaud Will Schmitt
Trompeta
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Bastien Brisson
Bastien Brisson
Autoría
PRODUCCIÓN E INGENIERÍA
Bastien Brisson
Bastien Brisson
Producción
Rémi Mayo @ Snapcut Studio FRANCE
Rémi Mayo @ Snapcut Studio FRANCE
Ingeniería de grabación

Letra

Join the fray, bring new consciousness
Are you willing to take all these risks
Let me tell you what you are missing, my friend, it's humanity's end
Mutism's social construction
Undo it and slow down media hype
Take a book and some speech therapy, you'll see, your own thinking will change
Or let me bleed, fail till grave, let me bleed, to death
Change consumer goods, denial of the truth
I'm top fifty douchebag, mediocrity's rank
Indebtedness of my soul, highest rebate rate
Sell shares, don't share, my money isn't crass
Live it up, your time is running out
Look down on us, we are a massive crowd
Fuck your rules, cause we will pull the strings
One day, on your real tragedy
Let me make you bleed
Benediction time
Let me make you bleed
It ends on the ground
Do it until a bone
Breaks off under a stone
Let's sing along the song
That's real coalescence
Do it until a bone
Breaks off under a stone
That's real coalescence
Don't do it all alone
And you're the change, hell you buddy
Seek in your brain,
You got the solutions to overcome the discrepancies
And you're laid-back boy, street boy, your slacks that don't fit
Ask for rolling paper, you got 33
You feel lost – LOST
Last – LAST
Of very very long
Generation victim of non-wealthy background
You're not a bad boy smashed – BAD BOY SMASHED
You're just a trite misfit – TRITE MISFIT
Who waits
Christ mess came in a major success
Entertainment's trivial but it goes down in history
How did we hold off the smart non-sense
While the masses prayed, Amen
What if resistance's only valid in world war 3
What if the bullshit isn't broadcast on TV
Maybe my perception of the modern world is wrong
And I admit, the ideal city, is dead
I had success with catchy songs and autotune
And everyone has heard about it to the moon
I bought seventeen guitars and another mansion to put them
You gonna sing it, you gonna sing it loud
Does it make sense to give awards
I'd like to design one
A 22 for the pricks, greenbacked, named, loaded
Cause their city, is dead
I gave sixteen of these guitars
No need to be a star
Life's better than this
I need your bliss
Cause, soon, I'll be, dead
Written by: Bastien Brisson

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