Clip vidéo

Apparaît dans

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Tilian Pearson
Tilian Pearson
Voix principales
Andrew Wells
Andrew Wells
Chant
Rob Damiani
Rob Damiani
Chant
Matthew Mingus
Matthew Mingus
Batterie
Jon Mess
Jon Mess
Cris
Tim Feerick
Tim Feerick
Basse
Will Swan
Will Swan
Guitare
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Tilian Pearson
Tilian Pearson
Composition
Will Swan
Will Swan
Composition
Jon Mess
Jon Mess
Composition
Tim Feerick
Tim Feerick
Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Kris Crummett
Kris Crummett
Ingénierie de mastérisation

Paroles

No frowns around, I'm now an older clown, I think I honked my spleen The money came to answer my prayers If you're filming me piss, it's probably best I stop the stream My colon is golden; eyes, they gleam Waking up, courage in my cup Last night was rough, don't remember much Waking up, courage in my cup Last night was rough, doing what I love Running on fumes, what can I do? Waiting for my score to come through Desperate for some motivation Running on fumes, checking my views Scrolling for a comment that proves I don't need more motivation I'm locked in, I'm stocked up often I'm shopping, my face is frosted I'm living life as if I'm already dead I'm spilling cups, and then I'm fucking the fed I'm locked in and topped up often No caution, my pace is toxic I'm living life as if I'm already dead Open and shut, you know I gave it my best Was feeling panicked, so I got myself a knife Then I felt empty, so I went and got myself a wife I tried to learn about the meaning of my life But I couldn't quite decide on which good book to buy 'Cause I'm like that, priceless Finest, ice-white platypus Blessing the things that I touch Worship me, worship my stuff Fitted with a gimmick, make a cynical wow Many men went in it, but they couldn't get out All of the things that we touch Suck all the life out of us Running on fumes, what can I do? Waiting for my score to come through Desperate for some motivation Running on fumes, checking my views Scrolling for a comment that proves I don't need more motivation I'm locked in, I'm stocked up often I'm shopping, my face is frosted I'm living life as if I'm already dead I'm spilling cups and then I'm fucking the fed I'm locked in and topped up often No caution, my pace is toxic I'm living life as if I'm already dead I'm living life, I'm living life as if I'm already dead I'm living life, I'm living life as if I'm already dead Hole in the world, holding some pearls Making it tough 'cause I'm never enough Hole in the earth, sleep on my perch Take some time off to forget what you're worth, never
Writer(s): Matthew James Mingus, William Swan, Jonathan David Mess, Timothy Thomas Feerick, Tilian Pearson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out