Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Gary Holt
Gitarre
Rick Hunolt
Gitarre
Steve Souza
Leadgesang
John Tempesta
Schlagzeug
Rob McKillop
Bass
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Gary Holt
Songwriter:in
John Tempesta
Songwriter:in
Rick Hunolt
Songwriter:in
Rob McKillop
Songwriter:in
Steve Souza
Songwriter:in
Exodus
Arrangeur:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Gary Holt
Produzent:in
Rick Hunolt
Produzent:in
Csaba Petocz
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Andy Newell
Zusätzliche:r Ingenieur:in
Casey McMackin
Ingenieurassistent:in
Chris Fuhrman
Zusätzliche:r Ingenieur:in
Jim McKee
Zusätzliche:r Ingenieur:in
John Bush
Zusätzliche:r Ingenieur:in
Lawrence Ethan
Ingenieurassistent:in
Lewis Demetri
Zusätzliche:r Ingenieur:in
Manny Lacarrubba
Ingenieurassistent:in
Marc Senasac
Mischtechniker:in
Shawna Stobie
Ingenieurassistent:in
Stephen Marcussen
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Steve Heinke
Ingenieurassistent:in
Ulrich Wild
Ingenieurassistent:in
Lyrics
All rise and come to order
Bailiff start the video recorder
You've been sworn, what's your complaint?
Speak up son, don't hesitate!
He presided in his courtroom so long ago
He was hanging cowboys for stealing buffalo
Court is adjourned, for his honor's feeling ill
The shaking old relic needs a glycerin pill!
Hang up your rope 'cause you're looking tired
If it was up to me they'd all be fired
Day after day convicting all those liars
This ain't TV jail
It's TV hell!
Believe it or not
Those walking blood clots
Make enough money for a thousand foot yacht
Who in Hollywood
Did they every acquit?
Just senile, judicial idiots
As the drama unfolds
And the law he upholds
If you look real close
You could see him growing mold
Small claims messiah
Is only a pariah to be ridiculed...
Objection Overruled!
All rise as he takes the bench
To hear his old voice make my gut wrench
Silence to those who are in his court
I'm found guilty by his report
No washed-up judge can say to me
The shit he throws arround when he's on TV
What can he fucking do, throw me in jail?
I'd slap out his dentures, post them for bail!
Hang up your robe 'cause you're looking tired
If it was up to me they'd all be fired
Day after day convicting all those liars
This ain't TV jail, it's TV hell!
You lose the case
To a bigger bullshit they you today
When it comes to the end
You tell all of TV land what you've got to say
When you're dead and gone
Will they get another fossil to carry on?
They must go to school
To hand-pick these old fools
I say to you
Objection Overruled!
It's all Perry Mason's fault!
Cat strangling
Writer(s): Gregory Isaacs, Sylvester Weise
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com