Clip vidéo

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Luke Combs
Luke Combs
Voix principales
Rob McNelley
Rob McNelley
Guitare électrique
Derek Wells
Derek Wells
Guitare électrique
Bryan Sutton
Bryan Sutton
Guitare acoustique
Jerry Roe
Jerry Roe
Batterie
Jim "Moose" Brown
Jim "Moose" Brown
Claviers
Chip Matthews
Chip Matthews
Chœurs
Jonathan Singleton
Jonathan Singleton
Chœurs
Steve Mackey
Steve Mackey
Basse
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Randy Montana
Randy Montana
Paroles/Composition
Dave Turnbull
Dave Turnbull
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Luke Combs
Luke Combs
Production
Chip Matthews
Chip Matthews
Ingénierie de mixage
Jonathan Singleton
Jonathan Singleton
Production
Zach Kuhlman
Zach Kuhlman
Ingénierie de prise de son
Benny Quinn
Benny Quinn
Ingénierie de mastérisation

Paroles

My big brother rode an Indian Scout, it was black like his jacket American Spirit hangin' outta his mouth, just like our daddy He kick-started that bike one night and broke mama's heart He pointed that headlight West, out where the wild things are He'd call me up every couple of weeks from South California Talk about the desert and the Joshua Tree and his pretty girl stories And how he bought an Air stream trailer and a J-45 guitar Said, "Little brother, you'd love it out here, out where the wild things are" Oh, oh-oh, it's hearts on fire and crazy dreams Oh, oh-oh, the nights ignite like gasoline And light up those streets that never sleep when the sky goes dark Out where the wild things are I called my brother from the back of that plane the second I made it We started drinkin' on the strip in L.A. and then it got crazy Ended up at a house in the hills with some Hollywood Stars Kissin' on a blonde in a backyard pool, out where the wild things are! (Oh, yeah!) Couple of iron horse rebels wild as the devil I knew I had to move back East Said goodbye to my brother at the end of that summer But I knew he'd never leave Oh, oh-oh, it's hearts on fire and crazy dreams Oh, where the nights ignite like gasoline? And oh, oh-oh, them Indian Scouts, man, they're built for speed And oh, oh-oh, they said he hit that guard rail at half-past three Lit up those streets that never sleep when the sky goes dark We buried him, out in the wind, beneath the West Coast stars Out where the wild things are Out where the wild things are
Writer(s): Dave Turnbull, Randy Montana Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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