Видео

Видео

Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Alexander Pearson
Alexander Pearson
Бэк-вокал
Jamal Sabet
Jamal Sabet
Клавишные инструменты
Joel Tyrrell
Joel Tyrrell
Бас-гитара
Matt Cooper
Matt Cooper
Солирующая гитара
Matt Parkitny
Matt Parkitny
Барабаны
Trenton Woodley
Trenton Woodley
Ведущий вокал
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Alexander Pearson
Alexander Pearson
Автор песен
Jamal Sabet
Jamal Sabet
Автор песен
Joel Tyrrell
Joel Tyrrell
Автор песен
Matt Cooper
Matt Cooper
Автор песен
Matt Parkitny
Matt Parkitny
Автор песен
Trenton Woodley
Trenton Woodley
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Alan Douches
Alan Douches
Мастеринг-инженер
CAMERON MIZELL
CAMERON MIZELL
Продюсер

Слова

The gasoline is mixing with the oxygen
In this carousel, the silence is so surreal
I've been misled through empty streets
To the heart that never beats of a body that I can't keep
We're blessed with these, these horrors for highways
This city turns no longer, content to just brush shoulders
Have we lost our touch?
A light goes on
We throw our blankets aside
It's been hours now and we still know nothing
The scars just don't heal the same, when we collide
I'd never say that we step to the other side
To keep us from brushing shoulders
But it's collisions we need to remind us that we're alive
I'd never say that you make me sick
But you're turning all the questions to cancers, whoa
Someone call in the emergency
And we'll peel back the dressings so we can see
The kind of things that the surgeons see
When the bloodwork won't give us the answers, whoa
They'll never tell us because they don't know what's killing us
My heart's at a million miles an hour
As we brace for the impact, it makes time standstill
Forcing momentum into a moment
So for a split second, I see your face
In between all the broken glass hanging like a mobile
This is a picture we'll never quite forget
The surgeons pick, they pick at my body
Their fingers dance, they dance all around me
Hold still while they pick at my body
They'll dance all around me
The surgeons pick, they pick at my body
Their fingers dance, they dance all around me
Hold still while they pick at my body
They'll dance all around me
Breathe your anesthetic words to slow us down
Tear back the skin to find, to chase a pulse back home
I'd never say that you make me sick
But you're turning all the questions to cancers, whoa
Someone call in the emergency
And we'll peel back the dressings so we can see
The kind of things that the surgeons see
When the bloodwork won't give us the answers, whoa
They'll never tell us because they don't know what's killing us
Written by: Hands Like Houses
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