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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Dance Gavin Dance
Dance Gavin Dance
Drums
Tilian Pearson
Tilian Pearson
Vocals
Jonathan Mess
Jonathan Mess
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tilian Pearson
Tilian Pearson
Composer
Jonathan Mess
Jonathan Mess
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dance Gavin Dance
Dance Gavin Dance
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Eye ya ya ya ya I'm stuffes Eye ya ya ya ya Nice pup Eye ya! Eye ya! Eye ya! Eye ya! Aye ya ya ya I'll never reply yuh Wore out my wheels, while I wore down my weight Pour out the squeal, hear the seal 'bout to break Wore out my wheels, while I wore down my weight Pour out the squeal, hear the seal 'bout to break Retired is a word that I hate I go quiet 'cause I know how to think Skunk pliers are the tools of the dank Young friar is my new chicken drank Why you go and try and touch people Eight hundred sixty seven bald eagles Why you go and try and touch people Eight hundred sixty seven red beetles Where do you want to be? Have you settled for the comfort of security? Half-baked What a waste Out of shape but not overweight If you showed restraint you could seperate Asses, asses, asses in battle Die die die die die ya bad apples Asses, asses, asses in battle Use your face like a dumb ass rattle My accent, my glibness A bee dipped in brass I'm stuck on the isthmus connecting my past A passionate servant when I'm paid in cash Don't ask if it's worth it, don't think about the math There's no complaining in the mansion You can't do just what I do I chuck my brain through the black Climb up the tree Shoot out the cannon Fuck her cause she reads Punctuation violation perpetrator is verified Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Wanted you to know Came close to being another echo Don't have a soul But I'm on a roll Comfort in the words of a swindler Everybody needs approval One love in the halls of a savior Act like you're above them All the lives you're running Will you ever feel it again? Like you're part of something Worth fighting for Worth dying for Flunked out and flung from the front of your face wait I smell Sharon's pimple It's the size of grapes I'm so splintered that my mind wave baked I had cash but I sold it for some soul I'm da wraith
Writer(s): Timothy Thomas Feerick, Tillian Pearson, William Swan, Jonathan David Mess, Matthew James Mingus Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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