Clip vidéo

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Los Campesinos!
Los Campesinos!
Interprète
Gareth Campesinos
Gareth Campesinos
Chant
Oli Campesinos
Oli Campesinos
Batterie
Tom Campesinos
Tom Campesinos
Guitare
Harriet Campesinos
Harriet Campesinos
Violon
Aleks Campesinos
Aleks Campesinos
Chant
Neil Campesinos!
Neil Campesinos!
Guitare
Ellen Campesinos
Ellen Campesinos
Basse
Jherek Bischoff
Jherek Bischoff
Contrebasse
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Gareth Campesinos
Gareth Campesinos
Paroles/Composition
Tom Campesinos
Tom Campesinos
Composition
Los Campesinos!
Los Campesinos!
Co‑arrangement
Harriet Campesinos
Harriet Campesinos
Arrangement des instruments à cordes
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Simon Francis
Simon Francis
Ingénierie de mastérisation
John Goodmanson
John Goodmanson
Ingénierie de mixage
Guy Davie
Guy Davie
Ingénierie de mastérisation

Paroles

I grabbed ahold of her wrist, and my hand closed from tip to tip I said, "You've taken the diet too far, you've got to let it slip" But she's not eating again, she's not eating again She's not eating again, she's not eating again I ask her to speak French, and then I need her to translate I get the feeling she makes the meaning more significant She was always far too pretty for me to believe In a single word she said, believe a word she said At 14, her mother died in a routine operation From allergic reaction to a general anesthetic Spent the rest of her teens experimenting with prescriptions In a futile attempt to know more than the doctors She said one day to leave her, sand up to her shoulders Waiting for the tide To drag her to the ocean, to another sea's shore This thing hurts like hell But what did you expect? And all you can hear is the sound of your own heart And all you can feel is your lungs flood and the blood course But oh, I can see five hundred years dead set ahead of me Five hundred behind a thousand years in perfect symmetry Best known left wrist right finger through all the Southern States On every video games machine, they call her "Triple A" There were racists on the radio trying to give up smoking The chat show host, he joked "You have to wait for the government program" You talk about your politics And I wonder if you could be one of them But you could never kiss a Tory boy Without wanting to cut off your tongue again A good place to look to the future Is when you are sat at the sea With the salt up to your ankles And a view of the end of the pier You may look down at your model's feet And wish that you'd just float away And the weather here is overcast And the sea is the same shade of grey So the landscape before you Looks just like the edge of the world But to the left side and the right side Either way is a crazy golf course The sea (the sea is) is a good place (a good place) To think of (to think about) the future And all you can hear is the sound of your own heart And all you can feel is your lungs flood and the blood course But oh, I can see five hundred years dead set ahead of me Five hundred behind, a thousand years in perfect symmetry A thousand years, no getting rid of me A thousand years in perfect symmetry
Writer(s): Gareth Paisey, Thomas Bromley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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