album cover
Hurricane Dance
669
W trasie
Pop
Utwór Hurricane Dance został wydany 1 stycznia 1995 przez Capitol Records jako część albumu Fast Stories...From Kid Coma
album cover
Data wydania1 stycznia 1995
WytwórniaCapitol Records
Melodyjność
Akustyczność
Valence
Taneczność
Energia
BPM85

Teledysk

Teledysk

Kredyty

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Truly
Truly
Performer
Robert Roth
Robert Roth
Guitar
Hiro Yamamoto
Hiro Yamamoto
Bass
Mark Pickerel
Mark Pickerel
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Robert Roth
Robert Roth
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Truly
Truly
Producer
John Agnello
John Agnello
Producer
Robert Roth
Robert Roth
Producer
Adam Kaspar
Adam Kaspar
Engineer

Tekst Utworu

Black drone wasps swarm around your porch at night.
You're inside bathing in the television light.
They want you to come outside.
They want to bite. They want you to fight.
The drones have needs, not just to feed the Queen.
They wanna fly in formation cut loose and
fuck around the airstream. Except for jill-ing your jane,
everything around you smacks of a media stain.
In a world revisited… world revisited let the night time drag you around.
Let the night time hook you up… the night time drag you around.
Rolling in your eyes, black pools and infinite skies.
The snakes are seething underneath with jealous poison suspicion.
I become entranced… it's not my fault.
It's rushing through my body and it's gushing out my throat.
Do you wanna play? or get blown away?
Do you wanna fuck around with the elements of chance?
Do you wanna spin around in a hurricane dance?
Cable lines that shoot sparks across my wall when the bus goes by.
I'm inside, it's five a.m. and I'm the electric wire.
I remember thinking "in a world revisited… in a world revisited"
Johnny take a pill you're gonna get us killed
Johnny take a pill you're gonna get us killed.
I become entranced… It's not my fault.
It's still rushing through my body even with your hands around my throat
Think I've gone astray? That I'd fade away?
Shallow shit your mother's son, your daddy holds your hand.
You wanna spin around in a hurricane dance.
Elevate me to your plane… Elevate me to your plane…
Army men and poison darts in their hearts and hands.
Makes me wanna spin around in a hurricane dance.
Elevate me to your plane… Elevate me to your plane…
Written by: Robert Roth
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