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ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Dan Searle
Dan Searle
Барабаны
Adam Christianson
Adam Christianson
Электрогитара
Antonia Kesel
Antonia Kesel
Скрипка
Will Harvey
Will Harvey
Скрипка
Edward Bale
Edward Bale
Альт
Choir Noir
Choir Noir
Вокал
Patrick J Pearson
Patrick J Pearson
Фортепиано
Tristan Button
Tristan Button
Труба
Nicholai Andersen
Nicholai Andersen
Труба
Anders Farstad
Anders Farstad
Труба
Susanne Skou
Susanne Skou
Валторна
Jari Kamsula
Jari Kamsula
Валторна
Ignacio Montero Requena
Ignacio Montero Requena
Валторна
Palle Schou Nielsen
Palle Schou Nielsen
Валторна
Marek Stolarczyk
Marek Stolarczyk
Тромбон
Fabrice Godin
Fabrice Godin
Тромбон
Jens Vind
Jens Vind
Тромбон
Alex Ali Dean
Alex Ali Dean
Клавишные инструменты
Alex Verster
Alex Verster
Контрабас
Josh Middleton
Josh Middleton
Электрогитара
Sam Carter
Sam Carter
Вокал
The Parallax Orchestra
The Parallax Orchestra
Струнный оркестр
Tim Lowe
Tim Lowe
Виолончель
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Dan Searle
Dan Searle
Автор песен
Adam Christianson
Adam Christianson
Автор песен
Alex Ali Dean
Alex Ali Dean
Автор песен
Josh Middleton
Josh Middleton
Автор песен
Sam Carter
Sam Carter
Автор песен
Simon Dobson
Simon Dobson
Композитор
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Dan Searle
Dan Searle
Продюсер
Zakk Cervini
Zakk Cervini
Миксинг-инженер
Adam Getgood
Adam Getgood
Инженер
Joachim Hejslet
Joachim Hejslet
Инженер
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Мастеринг-инженер
Josh Middleton
Josh Middleton
Сопродюсер
Peter Miles
Peter Miles
Дополнительный инженер
Robin Adams
Robin Adams
Инженер обработки

Слова

Do you cross your heart when you hope to die? Are you sleeping deep in the hurricane? IVs in the arm, forgetting to feel, we're crawling on all fours Will you fall on that sword at the second coming? You're gonna taste the ash and dust 'Cause this world is dying in our arms Now wheels are turning What would you do to stay alive if the planet was burning? You wanna make your hell a reality? Black lungs for the young if they dare to breathe Sure sounds like heaven to me You've gotta cut the roots to kill the weeds No place to go if we don't believe Good Lord, it's enough to plague a saint Give us a Judas steer we can deify Yeah, we all pretend we're the renegades So wash us away, garroted by a halo Take a bow 'cause time's running out There's no doubt that the end is coming You're gonna taste the ash, you're gonna taste the dust 'Cause this world is dying in our arms Now wheels are turning What would you do to stay alive if the planet was burning? You wanna make your hell a reality? Black lungs for the young if they dare to breathe Sure sounds like heaven to me You've gotta cut the roots to kill the weeds No place to go if we don't believe Good Lord, it's enough to plague a saint Good Lord, it's enough to plague a saint Post-love, post-truth Justice lays bound and black bagged, ready for the guillotine We can all plead guilty when they ask "Where were you when the Gods clipped the wings of the Phoenix?" They clipped the wings of the Phoenix, oh When will we wrestle the world from the Fools and their gold and their fucking covenant? Will enough be enough when we're holding on for dear life? You wanna make your hell a reality? Black lungs for the young if they dare to breathe Sure sounds like heaven to me You've gotta cut the roots to kill the weeds No place to go if we don't believe Good Lord, it's enough to plague a saint It's enough to plague a saint It's enough to plague a saint It's enough to plague a saint Oh Ugh, we can all plead guilty when they ask "Where were you when the Gods clipped the wings of the Phoenix?"
Writer(s): Daniel Joseph Searle, Alex Anthony Dean, Joshua Middleton, Adam Michael Christianson, Sam Carter Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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