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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Butch Walker
Butch Walker
Background Vocals
Pete Wentz
Pete Wentz
Bass Guitar
Jake Sinclair
Jake Sinclair
Background Vocals
Andy Hurley
Andy Hurley
Drums
Joe Trohman
Joe Trohman
Guitar
Patrick Stump
Patrick Stump
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Courtney Love
Courtney Love
Songwriter
Joe Trohman
Joe Trohman
Songwriter
Andy Hurley
Andy Hurley
Songwriter
Patrick Stump
Patrick Stump
Songwriter
Pete Wentz
Pete Wentz
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Fall Out Boy
Fall Out Boy
Co-Producer
Butch Walker
Butch Walker
Producer
Jake Sinclair
Jake Sinclair
Recording Engineer
Todd Stopera
Todd Stopera
Assistant Recording Engineer
Manny Sanchez
Manny Sanchez
Co-Producer
Grant Michaels
Grant Michaels
Vocal Recording Engineer
Dave Sardy
Dave Sardy
Mixing Engineer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer

Songteksten

It's Courtney, bitch! Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey No thesis existed for burning cities down at such a rampant rate No graphics and no fucking Powerpoint presentation So they just DIY'd that shit and they built their own bombs She's his suicide blond, she's number than gold Are you ready for another bad poem? One more off key anthem Let your teeth sink in Remember me as I was not as I am And I said "I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead," I kept wishing she had blonde ambition and she'd let it go to my head Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey If my love is a weapon There's no second guessing when I say Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey If my heart is a grenade You pull the pin and say: We're all fighting growing old We're all fighting growing old In the hopes Of a few minutes more To get on St. Peter's list But you need to lower your standards Cause it's never Getting any better than this We are professional ashes of roses This kerosene's live You settled your score This is where you come to beg, unborn and unshaven Killing fields of fire to a congress of ravens This is what we do, baby, we nightmare you I'm about to make the sweat roll backwards And your heart beat in reverse Our guts can't be reworked As alone as a little white church In the middle of the desert getting burned But I'll take your heart served up two ways I sing a bitter song I'm the lonelier version of you I just don't know where it went wrong Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey If my love is a weapon There's no second guessing when I say Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey If my heart is a grenade You pull the pin and say: We're all fighting growing old We're all fighting growing old In the hopes Of a few minutes more To get on St. Peter's list But you need to lower your standards Cause it's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this She's sick and she's wrong She's young dirty blonde And you sink inside her like a suicide bomb He says "I've seen bigger" She says "I've lit better" And they throw the matches down into the glitter Not a dry eye left in the house Go boy, go boy, run for your life Go boy, go boy, run for your life Go boy, go boy, run for your life We're all fighting growing old We're all fighting growing old In the hopes Of a few minutes more To get on St. Peter's list But you need to lower your standards Cause it's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this Rat a tat tat Rat a tat tat tat hey It's never Getting any better than this Are you ready for another bad poem?
Writer(s): Patrick Stumph, Andrew Hurley, Peter Wentz, Joseph Trohman, Courtney Love Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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