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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Max Clarke
Vocals
Noah Bond
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Max Clarke
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Matt Ross-Spang
Producer
Alex Mccullough
Mastering Engineer
Wesley Graham
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
My love, you won't find me
Hanging around by the hanging tree
Cheering the death march on
Ain't never been my idea of fun
Well, have you heard the news?
Well, do you think that it's true?
How the bad seed spoiled the brood?
Uh, I don't know, it's hard to say
It coulda' gone either way
Like some cyclone out on the plain
They pulverize, then they pass away
At the end of the day it's no use
If I upset you now
I'll try to make it up somehow
But you know I can't say
What goes on in my mind some days
Sometimes I think there's no help
For me or anyone else
But I got to see for myself
Walk along, make my moves
Down the streets and avenues
Nothing going, nothing to do
The only one thing, I care to hold on to
Oh, my love and that's you
Cut dried cancer cysts
Painted fingernails on the iron fist
Hole up and hide, it's a blowout sale
Sweet suicide get me out on bail, well
All these things I have tried (all my life)
To see from every side
Uh, they go in and out with the tide
Up and down, back again
Make the rounds, make amends
Just how much do I have to spend?
Every postcard that I try to send
Oh, it just gets lost in the mail
Writer(s): Max Christian Clarke
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