Crédits
INTERPRÉTATION
TALK
Chant
Sam Homaee
Programmation
Connor Riddell
Guitare
Daniel Crean
Batterie
Yasmeen Al-Mazeedi
Violon
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Justin Tranter
Paroles/Composition
Brandon Colbein
Paroles/Composition
Jussi Karvinen
Paroles/Composition
Nicholas Durocher
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Sam Homaee
Production
Nicholas Durocher
Production
Connor Riddell
Production
Jussifer
Production vocale
Alex Ghenea
Ingénierie de mixage
Jonathan Pfarr
Ingénierie de prise de son
Nathan Dantzler
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Harrison Tate
Assistance d’ingénierie de mastérisation
Cory Washington
Ingénierie de mixage
Justin Tranter
Production
The Audiologist
Ingénierie de mixage
Paroles
Old, old souls
Don't know they're old
Until they're on the edge
Trying to process the loss of old friends
Scars, old scars I keep in jars
Collect them like a badge
Won't forget the past
Those old, old friends
Turns out all of my highs are making love to my lows
Making fun of my boundaries, sticks, and stones
You say "Love", I believe it to the bone
If I could see how you see me
I could be a little bit happy
And through your eyes I realize
I could be a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah, a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah, a little bit happy
Cold, so cold
Even tippy's birds went home
But I'm still standing here counting all my tears
Trying to feel what you felt for years
Turns out all of my highs are making love to my lows
Making fun of my boundaries, sticks, and stones
You say "Love", I believe it to the bone
If I could see how you see me
I could be a little bit happy
And through your eyes I realize
I could be a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah, a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah, a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah, a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah, a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah, a little bit happy
Ah, ah, ah
Writer(s): Jeremy Dussolliet, Brandon Skeie, Justin Drew Tranter, Connor Riddell, Nicholas Durocher
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