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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
David Byrne
David Byrne
Vocals
Jerry Harrison
Jerry Harrison
Electric Guitar
Tina Weymouth
Tina Weymouth
Synth Bass
Alex Weir
Alex Weir
Electric Guitar
Bernie Worrell
Bernie Worrell
Keyboards
Steve Scales
Steve Scales
Percussion
Christopher Frantz
Christopher Frantz
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
David Byrne
David Byrne
Songwriter
Tina Weymouth
Tina Weymouth
Composer
Christopher Frantz
Christopher Frantz
Composer
Jerry Harrison
Jerry Harrison
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Talking Heads
Talking Heads
Producer
Jerry Harrison
Jerry Harrison
Mixing Engineer
Glenn Rosenstein
Glenn Rosenstein
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Linda Randazzo
Linda Randazzo
Assistant Mixing Engineer
NICK DELRE
NICK DELRE
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Robin Laine
Robin Laine
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Allen Chinowsky
Allen Chinowsky
Live Recording Engineer
Eric Thorngren
Eric Thorngren
Mixing Engineer
Joel Moss
Joel Moss
Engineer
Mark Wolfson
Mark Wolfson
Engineer
Christopher Frantz
Christopher Frantz
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Now, let me tell you a story
The devil, he has a plan
Bag of bones in his pocket
Get anything you want
No dust, no rocks
The whole thing is over
All those beauties in solid motion
All those beauties
They're gonna swallow you up
[Chorus]
Let's go
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
[Chorus]
One time too many
Too far to go
Hi, we've come to take you home, woohoo
[Verse 2]
When they split those atoms
It's hotter than the sun
Blood is a special substance
They gonna pray for that man
So wake up, young lovers
The whole thing is over
Watch out, touch monkeys
All that blood
They're gonna swallow you whole
[Chorus]
Let's go
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
[Chorus]
So soft, hard feelings
No tricks, let's go
Hi, we've come to take you home, woohoo
[Verse 3]
How many people do you think I am?
Pretend I am somebody else
You can pretend I'm a old millionaire
A millionaire washin' his hands
Rattle the bones of dreams that stick out
A medical chart on the wall
Soft violins, hands touch your throat
Everyone wants to explode
[Verse 4]
Now, when your hands get dirty
Nobody knows you at all
Don't have a window to slip out of
Lights on, nobody home
Click-click, see ya later
Beta-beta, and no time to rest
Picka-picka, risky business
All that blood will never cover that mess
[Chorus]
Let's go
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
[Chorus]
Let's go
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi
Written by: Chris Frantz, David Byrne, Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth
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