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Crédits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Steve Harwell
Steve Harwell
Stimme und Gesang
Greg Camp
Greg Camp
Gitarre
Paul DeLisle
Paul DeLisle
Stimme und Gesang
Kevin Coleman
Kevin Coleman
Schlagzeug
John Grove
John Grove
Posaune
John Gibson
John Gibson
Trompete
Lee Harris
Lee Harris
Saxofon
J. GRADY
J. GRADY
Stimme und Gesang
Mark Harwell
Mark Harwell
Stimme und Gesang
Anzimee Camp
Anzimee Camp
Stimme und Gesang
Kelly Young
Kelly Young
Stimme und Gesang
Boston Johnny
Boston Johnny
Stimme und Gesang
Jason Slater
Jason Slater
Stimme und Gesang
Sam Burbank
Sam Burbank
Stimme und Gesang
Dan Plok
Dan Plok
Stimme und Gesang
Michael Urbano
Michael Urbano
Schlagzeug
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Steve Harwell
Steve Harwell
Songwriter:in
Paul DeLisle
Paul DeLisle
Songwriter:in
Kevin Iannello
Kevin Iannello
Songwriter:in
Gregory D. Camp
Gregory D. Camp
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Eric Valentine
Eric Valentine
Produzent:in

Paroles

It ain't no joke, I'd like to buy the world a toke And teach the world to sing in perfect harmony And teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars Hey, I know it's just a song, but it's spice for the recipe This is a love attack, I know it went out, but it's back It's just like any fad, it retracts before impact And just like fashion it's a passion for the with-it and hip If you got the goods, they'll come and buy it Just to stay in the clique So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out Allow if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive And if you follow there may be a tomorrow But if the offer's shunned You might as well be walking on the Sun Twenty-five years ago, they spoke out and they broke out Of recession and oppression and together they toked And they folked out with guitars around a bonfire Just singin' and clappin', man, what the hell happened? Then some were spellbound, some were hellbound Some, they fell down and some got back up And fought back against the meltdown And their kids were hippie chicks, all hypocrites Because fashion is smashing the true meaning of it So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out Allow if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow But if the offer's shunned You might as well be walking on the sun It ain't no joke when a mama's handkerchief is soaked With her tears because her baby's life has been revoked The bond is broke up, so choke up and focus on the close up Mr. Wizard can't perform no god-like hocus-pocus So don't sit back, kick back and watch the world get bushwhacked News at ten, your neighborhood is under attack Put away the crack before the crack puts you away You need to be there when your baby's old enough to relate So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out Allow if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow But if the offer's shunned You might as well be walking on the sun You might as well be walking on the sun You might as well be walking on the sun You might as well be walking on the sun You might as well be walking on the sun
Writer(s): Paul Delisle, Kevin Iannello, Greg Camp, Steven Harwell Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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