Видео

Behind The Sea Lyrics - Panic! At The Disco
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Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Brendon Urie
Brendon Urie
Гитара
Ryan Ross
Ryan Ross
Гитара
Rob Mathes
Rob Mathes
Дирижер
Jon Walker
Jon Walker
Бэк-вокал
Tony Pleeth
Tony Pleeth
Виолончель
Perry Montague-Mason
Perry Montague-Mason
Первая скрипка
Spencer Smith
Spencer Smith
Барабаны
Warren Zielinski
Warren Zielinski
Вторая скрипка
Tony Kadleck
Tony Kadleck
Труба
Peter Lale
Peter Lale
Альт
Chris Laurence Quartet
Chris Laurence Quartet
Контрабас
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Brendon Urie
Brendon Urie
Автор песен
Ryan Ross
Ryan Ross
Автор песен
Jon Walker
Jon Walker
Автор песен
Spencer Smith
Spencer Smith
Автор песен
Rob Mathes
Rob Mathes
Аранжировщик оркестра
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Rob Mathes
Rob Mathes
Продюсер
Richard Lancaster
Richard Lancaster
Ассистент миксинг-инженера
Lewis Jones
Lewis Jones
Ассистент инженера звукозаписи
Claudius Mittendorfer
Claudius Mittendorfer
Инженер звукозаписи
Scott Hull
Scott Hull
Мастеринг-инженер
Peter Cobbin
Peter Cobbin
Миксинг-инженер
Peter Hutchings
Peter Hutchings
Ассистент инженера
Jonathan Allen
Jonathan Allen
Инженер звукозаписи
Mark Everton Gray
Mark Everton Gray
Ассистент инженера звукозаписи

Слова

A daydream spills from my corked head Breaks free of my wooden neck Left a nod over sleeping waves Like bobbing bait for bathing cod Floating flocks of candled swans Slowly drift across wax ponds The men all played along To marching drums And boy did they have fun Behind the sea They sang (hey!) So our matching legs Are marching clocks And we're all too small To talk to God Yes, we're all too smart To talk to God Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs To us from the dock Jinxed things ringing as they leak Through tiny cracks in the boardwalk Scarecrow, now it's time to hatch Sprouting sons and ageless daughters Don't you know Don't you know That those watermelon smiles Just can't ripen underwater Just can't ripen underwater The men all played along To marching drums And boy did they have fun Behind the sea They sang (hey!) So our matching legs Are marching clocks And we're all too small To talk to God Yeah, we're all too smart To talk to God Oh, we're all too smart To talk to God Ooooh Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs Waves of wooden legs Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs Waves of wooden legs Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs Waves of wooden legs Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs Waves of wooden legs Oooooh So close
Writer(s): Brendon Urie, Jonathan Walker, Spencer Smith, George Ross Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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