album cover
Echo Park
270
Singer/Songwriter
Echo Park fue lanzado el 21 de octubre de 2022 por End Times Music como parte del álbum The Festival
album cover
Fecha de lanzamiento21 de octubre de 2022
Sello discográficoEnd Times Music
IdiomaEnglish
Melodía
Nivel de sonidos acústicos
Valence
Capacidad para bailar
Energía
BPM103

Video musical

Video musical

Créditos

ARTISTAS INTÉRPRETES
Tim Baker
Tim Baker
Voz principal, Batería, Piano, Guitarra acústica, Sintetizador
Marcus Paquin
Marcus Paquin
Bajo eléctrico
Liam O'Neill
Liam O'Neill
Batería
Peter Lannon
Peter Lannon
Guitarra eléctrica
Nico Paulo
Nico Paulo
Voces de fondo
Joshua Van Tassel
Joshua Van Tassel
Batería
COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Tim Baker
Tim Baker
Autoría
PRODUCCIÓN E INGENIERÍA
Tim Baker
Tim Baker
Coproducción
Marcus Paquin
Marcus Paquin
Coproducción
Daniel Goodwin
Daniel Goodwin
Masterización, Ingeniería de mezcla
Jonathan Kaspy
Jonathan Kaspy
Ingeniero(a) adicional
Mark Feener
Mark Feener
Ingeniero(a) adicional

Letra

[Verse 1]
At last, I lay down my bags, half-dead in the Pacific sand
I'd been chasing something west, but it stayed just ahead
And today, today is the same as it was then in 2008
In the stillness of central LA, nothing ever blows my way
[Verse 2]
It's the same blank sky and the sun so much I don't even look up
No clouds to dream against, is Heaven so far from us?
No wind waving the trees
It's as if God's hands are hid in his sleeves
Like he's packed up and gone to the coast
And left us alone in the street, hands going slowly east
Left us alone in the street, hands going slowly east
[Verse 3]
Oh, hands hold in the prayer, pull the dream from the Pacific air
All day you say your namaste, looking for light in the blinding day
You pose and you patiently wait, your arms held out like a sail
So close, you just need the wind, to come blow you up the hill
[Verse 4]
Those hills, that's what you need
That cool breeze washing you clean
And you fly high like a kite
Onto the other side of the hard Angelino night
[Verse 5]
Give us the wind like a smack in the face
The kind that I miss from my easterly days
And when the palm fronds all fall in the street
And aren't they like hands reaching out, hands reaching out to me?
Aren't they like hands reaching out, hands reaching out to me?
Aren't they like hands to me?
Written by: Tim Baker
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