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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Half Moon Run
Performer
Isaac Symonds
Bass Guitar
Devon Portielje
Lead Vocals
Conner Molander
Electric Guitar
Dylan Phillips
Drums
Lea Moisan-Perrier
Soprano
Choeur des Enfants de Montréal
Background Vocals
Katie Adam
Performer
Penny Benoit
Performer
Roxanne Uwera Ntaganira
Performer
Zairda Castonguay
Performer
Sofia Dufresne
Performer
Jessica Looper
Performer
Rowan Grance Mizerski
Additional Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Isaac Symonds
Songwriter
Devon Portielje
Songwriter
Conner Molander
Songwriter
Dylan Phillips
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Joe Chiccarelli
Producer
Chris Shaw
Mixing Engineer
Emily Lazar
Mastering Engineer
Sam Woywitka
Assistant Recording Engineer
Jacob Lacroix-Cardinal
Assistant Recording Engineer
Lars Fox
Editing Engineer
Lyrics
Is there someone you can argue with
That will catch you if you fall?
Someone else that you can talk to
Is there a neighbor you can call?
Cause there's a cancer in our children
And we put it in their mouths
Poisoned all the waterways
And choked the air to death
Inside, there is a light
Don't look the other way
Paradise beyond the paywall
People dying to get in
People outside stacking bodies
At the gates to get a glimpse
They heard it's ultimate salvation
Without the troubles of the poor
Where not one question lingers
There's an answer and a cure
There you were
Face wrapped around a cigarette
But you tell me nothing
Just like everybody else
And I know I'm not quite right
But I'm trying to do better
And not worry about anything
Just like everybody else
Who doesn't talk like they know themselves
Don't look the other way
When the dream of blinding joy you'd find
In the bedroom of the star
Fades with the color from your cheeks
As he smiles like a scar
And his potency of promise
Dilute and void of pride
Convictions of the honest
Obscured, confused and undermined
There you were
Face wrapped around a cigarette
But you tell me nothing
Just like everybody else
And I know I'm not quite right
But I'm trying to do better
And not worry about anything
Just like everybody else
Who doesn't talk like they know themselves
You could be my razor blade
Your face wrapped around a cigarette
But you tell me nothing
You could be my razor blade
And I know I'm not quite right
But I worry about everything
You could be my razor blade
I was buried in bed
Resting my ears
But the ring was more than howlin'
And I couldn't come to
I was stuck in a stupor
In a dream
In a flash of light
I was deaf
It makes no sense
It makes no sense
It's heaven sent
It makes no sense
Writer(s): Devon Portielje, Conner Molander, Dylan Phillips, Isaac Symonds
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