Clip vidéo

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Old Crow Medicine Show
Old Crow Medicine Show
Interprète
Ketch Secor
Ketch Secor
Chant
Morgan Jahnig
Morgan Jahnig
Basse
Cory Younts
Cory Younts
Harmonies vocales
Jerry Pentecost
Jerry Pentecost
Batterie
Mason Via
Mason Via
Harmonies vocales
mike harris
mike harris
Guitare slide
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Ketch Secor
Ketch Secor
Paroles/Composition
Jim Lauderdale
Jim Lauderdale
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Old Crow Medicine Show
Old Crow Medicine Show
Production
Matt Ross-Spang
Matt Ross-Spang
Ingénierie de mixage
Morgan Jahnig
Morgan Jahnig
Ingénierie de prise de son
Sally Williams
Sally Williams
Production
Pete Lyman
Pete Lyman
Ingénierie de mastérisation

Paroles

Ever since I was a young boy I had a wandering soul I walked and crawled across six state lines By the time I was eight years old I landed in some cornfield They called a town on the grow So I climbed up on that water tower man But the city was a no show And that's when I spied you, but we didn't mind All night truck stops, drive-ins, dives We were teenage troubadours, hopping on boxcars For a hell of a one-way ride It's just a Waffle House jukebox My brains are scattered around But one of these days, you and me, babе We will spill the wholе bucket And paint this town Paint this town Paint it red and white for Old Glory Paint it blue for the cops tailing your old man's Ford Shimmy up them power lines and paint some anarchy signs 'Cause that's what you do when you're 15 years old We'll paint it yellow for a warning They'll never take us alive Now we've given our hearts to this heartbreak city Where farm kids go to make out or die It's just a Waffle House jukebox My brains are scattered around But one of these days, you and me, babe We're gonna spill the whole bucket And paint this town Paint this town Now the train don't stop like it used to Interstate missed by more than a mile Still all these trailer park kids there Grow up thinking this is a place they will survive And you and me, babe, we faded away Like the yearbook page foretold Now all I got left is the dirt under my fingernails From when we went digging for gold It's just a Waffle House jukebox Bright lights spinning 'round But one of these days they just might light your way Make you spill the whole damn bucket And paint this town Paint this town Paint this town
Writer(s): Jim Lauderdale, Ketch Secor Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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