Video Musik

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PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ronnie Radke
Ronnie Radke
Vocals
Jacky Vincent
Jacky Vincent
Electric Guitar
Mika Horiuchi
Mika Horiuchi
Bass
Derek Jones
Derek Jones
Electric Guitar
Ryan Seaman
Ryan Seaman
Drums
Dave Holdredge
Dave Holdredge
Programming
Michael "Elvis" Baskette
Michael "Elvis" Baskette
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dave Holdredge
Dave Holdredge
Songwriter
Ronnie Radke
Ronnie Radke
Songwriter
Michael Baskette
Michael Baskette
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dave Holdredge
Dave Holdredge
Mixing Engineer
Kevin Thomas
Kevin Thomas
Assistant Recording Engineer
Jef Moll
Jef Moll
Editing Engineer
Michael "Elvis" Baskette
Michael "Elvis" Baskette
Producer

Lirik

Attention, attention, everyone I got a couple of things, I would like to get off of my chest Friends, who the fuck needs them? You know who you are Caught like a fly in a web of your lies It's truth be told now or it's meet your demise So how did it feel when you held the knife That you stuck right in my back a thousand times? Your grandfather would probably roll in his grave If he knew of that person that you had became Oh, I will not just lay down and take this Not again, not again You have left my heart black and blue Just like your father did to you How does it feel, knowing you're barely alive? Seeing through bloodshot eyes, you're left empty inside Where I was strung out and drug through the mud I must agree, you're just like me And when you die, I won't be at your wake No eulogy from me, just a smile on my face And while God might be busy with judging your soul I will have slept with the girl that you love most You have left my heart black and blue Just like your father did to you How does it feel, knowing you're barely alive? Seeing through bloodshot eyes, you're left empty inside Where I was strung out and drug through the mud I must agree, you're just like me Now how does it feel, knowing you're barely alive? Seeing through bloodshot eyes, you're left empty inside Where I was strung out and drug through the mud I must agree, you're just like me I'm no fucking saint, but at least I will fucking sing about it Oh, the audacity
Writer(s): Michael Baskette, Ronnie Radke, David Holdredge Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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