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Tear My Stillhouse Down
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Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Gillian Welch
Gillian Welch
Chant
Armando Campean
Armando Campean
Contrebasse
David Rawlings
David Rawlings
Guitare acoustique
Greg Leisz
Greg Leisz
Lap steel guitar
James Burton
James Burton
Guitare
Jim Keltner
Jim Keltner
Batterie
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Gillian Welch
Gillian Welch
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
T Bone Burnett
T Bone Burnett
Production
John Hanlon
John Hanlon
Ingénierie de mixage
Rik Pekkonen
Rik Pekkonen
Ingénierie

Paroles

Put no stone at my head, no flowers on my tomb No gold-plated sign in a marble pillared room The one thing I want, when they lay me in the ground When I die, tear my stillhouse down Lord, tear my stillhouse down, let it go to rust Don't leave no trace of the hiding place Where I made that evil stuff For all my time and money, no profit did I see That old copper kettle was the death of me When I was a child, way back in the hills I laughed at the men who tended those stills But that old mountain shine, it caught me somehow When I die, tear my stillhouse down Oh, tear my stillhouse down, let it go to rust Don't leave no trace of the hiding place Where I made that evil stuff For all my time and money, no profit did I see That old copper kettle was the death of me Oh, tell all your children that Hell ain't no dream 'Cause ol' Satan, he lives in my whisky machine And in my time of dying, I know where I'm bound So when I die, tear my stillhouse down Oh, tear my stillhouse down, let it go to rust Don't leave no trace of the hiding place Where I made that evil stuff For all my time and money, no profit did I see That old copper kettle was the death of me That old copper kettle was the death of me
Writer(s): Gillian Howard Welch Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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