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Swamp (Live)
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Apparaît dans

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
David Byrne
David Byrne
Chant
Jerry Harrison
Jerry Harrison
Guitare électrique
Tina Weymouth
Tina Weymouth
Synthétiseur de basse
Alex Weir
Alex Weir
Guitare électrique
Steve Scales
Steve Scales
Percussion
Bernie Worrell
Bernie Worrell
Claviers
Christopher Frantz
Christopher Frantz
Batterie
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
David Byrne
David Byrne
Paroles/Composition
Tina Weymouth
Tina Weymouth
Composition
Christopher Frantz
Christopher Frantz
Composition
Jerry Harrison
Jerry Harrison
Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Talking Heads
Talking Heads
Production
Jerry Harrison
Jerry Harrison
Ingénierie de mixage
Glenn Rosenstein
Glenn Rosenstein
Assistance d’ingénierie de mixage
Linda Randazzo
Linda Randazzo
Assistance d’ingénierie de mixage
NICK DELRE
NICK DELRE
Assistance d’ingénierie de mixage
Robin Laine
Robin Laine
Assistance d’ingénierie de mixage
Allen Chinowsky
Allen Chinowsky
Ingénierie d’enregistrement live
Eric 'ET' Thorngren
Eric 'ET' Thorngren
Ingénierie de mixage
Joel Moss
Joel Moss
Ingénierie
Mark Wolfson
Mark Wolfson
Ingénierie
Christopher Frantz
Christopher Frantz
Ingénierie de mixage

Paroles

Now, let me tell you a story The Devil, he has a plan Bag of bones in his pocket Get anything you want No dust, no rocks The whole thing is over All those beauties in solid motion All those beauties They're gonna swallow you up Let's go Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi, hi One time too many Too far to go Hi, we've come to take you home, whoo-oo When they split those atoms It's hotter than the Sun Blood is a special substance They gonna pray for that man So wake up, young lovers The whole thing is over Watch out, touch monkeys All that blood They're gonna swallow you whole Let's go Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi, hi What's that? who's driving? Where we going? who knows? Hi, we've come to take you home, whoo-oo How many people do you think I am? Pretend I am somebody else You can pretend I'm a old millionare A millionare washin' his hands Rattle the bones of dreams that stick out A medical chart on the wall Soft violins, hands touch your throat Everyone wants to explode Now, when your hands get dirty Nobody knows you at all Don't have a window to slip out of Lights on, nobody home Click-click, see ya later Beta-beta, and no time to rest Picka-picka, risky business All that blood will never cover that mess Let's go Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi, hi So soft, hard feeling No tricks, let's go Hi, we've come to take you home, whoo-oo Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi, hi Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi, hi Hi, hi-hi-hi-hi-hi
Writer(s): Tina Weymouth, Chris Franz, David Byrne, Jerry Harrison Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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