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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Dan Searle
Drums
Adam Christianson
Electric Guitar
Antonia Kesel
Violin
Will Harvey
Violin
Edward Bale
Viola
Choir Noir
Vocals
Patrick J Pearson
Piano
Tristan Button
Trumpet
Nicholai Andersen
Trumpet
Anders Farstad
Trumpet
Susanne Skou
Horn
Jari Kamsula
Horn
Ignacio Montero Requena
Horn
Palle Schou Nielsen
Horn
Marek Stolarczyk
Trombone
Fabrice Godin
Trombone
Jens Vind
Trombone
Alex Ali Dean
Keyboards
Alex Verster
Double Bass
Josh Middleton
Electric Guitar
Sam Carter (Architects)
Vocals
The Parallax Orchestra
String Orchestra
Tim Lowe
Cello
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dan Searle
Songwriter
Adam Christianson
Songwriter
Alex Ali Dean
Songwriter
Josh Middleton
Songwriter
Sam Carter (Architects)
Songwriter
Simon Dobson
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dan Searle
Producer
Zakk Cervini
Mixing Engineer
Adam Getgood
Engineer
Joachim Hejslet
Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Josh Middleton
Co-Producer
Peter Miles
Additional Engineer
Robin Adams
Editing Engineer
Lyrics
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
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