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Crediti
PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Mars Volta
Performer
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Guitar
Cedric Bixler-Zavala
Vocals
Jon Theodore
Drums
Juan Alderete
Bass Guitar
Ikey Owens
Keyboards
Marcel Rodriguez
Percussion
Larry Harlow
Piano
Adrián Terrazas
Flute
Joel Derouin
Violin
Roberto Cani
Violin
Mario De Leon
Violin
Perer Kent
Violin
Josefina Vergara
Violin
Larry Corbett
Cello
Wayne Bergeron
Trumpet
William Reichenbach
Bass Trombone
Nick Lane
Trombone
Roger J. Jr. Manning
Piano
Fernando El De La Morena
Violin
Erick Hernandez
Violin
Rosendo D Cassillas
Violin
Ernesto V Molina
Violin
Salvador Hernandez
Trumpet
Randy Jones
Tuba
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Composer
Cedric Bixler-Zavala
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Omar Rodriguez-Lopez
Producer
Andrew Scheps
Recording Engineer
Jonathon DeBaun
Recording Engineer
Dave Schiffman
Recording Engineer
Paul Pilsneniks
Assistant Recording Engineer
Claudius Mittendorfer
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Rich Costey
Mixing Engineer
Howie Weinberg
Mastering Engineer
Roger Lian
Mastering Engineer
Testi
I think I've become one of the others
I think I've become one of the others
I think I've become one of the others
There was a frail syrup dripping off his lap danced lapel
Punctuated by her decrepit prowl she
Washed down the hatching gizzard
Soft as a mane of needles
His orifice icicles hemorrhaged by combing her torso to a pile
Perspired the trophy shelves made room for his collapse
She was a mink handjob in sarcophagus heels
Bring me to my knees, read the sharpened lines
All my arms bled me blind
Faucet leaks in shadows
Spilling from morgue lancet
Caressed your fontanelle
I've sworn to kill every last one
Every last one
Panic in the shakes of the wounded
Panic in the worms
Onto the floor and out of your mouth and out of your eyelids
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
All your dreams splintered off
Leech by leech on this catafalque
Anyone will tell you, yes, anyone
Chance had me setting a trip wire alarm
Your mother flirted with disease
When she skinned that costume by its navel strings
Panic in the shakes of the wounded
Panic in the worms
Onto the floor and out of your mouth and out of your eyelids
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there's no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
Shockless shackles free you
Volt face cons
Abandon you again
I won't feel, not this time
Shockless shackles free you
Volt face cons
Abandon you again
I won't feel not this time (oh, yeah)
Writer(s): Cedric Bixler, Omar Rodriguez
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