More songs by Marta Del Grandi
Description
Arranger: Marta Del Grandi
Bass Guitar: Kobe Boon
Drums: Simon Raman
Engineer: Bert Vliegen
Guitar: Artan Buleshkaj
Guitar: Marta Del Grandi
Lead Vocals: Marta Del Grandi
Mastering Engineer: Brian Pyle
Mixing Engineer: Bert Vliegen
Percussion: Simon Raman
Producer: Marta Del Grandi
Producer: Bert Vliegen
Programmer: Bert Vliegen
Synthesizer: Marta Del Grandi
Synthesizer: Bert Vliegen
Vocals: Fenne Kuppens
Composer: Marta Del Grandi
Lyrics and translation
Original
Some days, sky and earth seem to pause, declare a truce in their fight.
Some other days, there's no rustling, no wind, no waves, and no one seems to think.
Minds surrender's knots untie when there's no one else around, and the roots are crawling up to the surface.
Some days, birds are quiet.
They're still like they're holding their breath.
Beneath the ground, there are whispers.
The world seems to have turned upside down.
When time stops and bones unwind, and there's no one else around, we could leave it, move ahead, find new purpose.
Some days, shutters shut down, and clocks stop their futile run.
Run, run, run. Run, run, run.
Run, run.
Minds surrender's knots untie when there's no one else around, and the roots are crawling up to the surface.
Some days, shutters shut down, and clocks stop their futile run.
Run, run.
Run, run, run.
Run, run, run. Run, run, run. Run, run. Run, run, run.
Run, run
English translation
Some days, sky and earth seem to pause, declare a truce in their fight.
Some other days, there's no rustling, no wind, no waves, and no one seems to think.
Minds surrender's knots untie when there's no one else around, and the roots are crawling up to the surface.
Some days, birds are quiet.
They're still like they're holding their breath.
Beneath the ground, there are whispers.
The world seems to have turned upside down.
When time stops and bones unwind, and there's no one else around, we could leave it, move ahead, find new purpose.
Some days, shutters shut down, and clocks stop their futile run.
Run, run, run. Run, run, run.
Run, run.
Minds surrender's knots untie when there's no one else around, and the roots are crawling up to the surface.
Some days, shutters shut down, and clocks stop their futile run.
Run, run.
Run, run, run.
Run, run, run. Run, run, run. Run, run. Run, run, run.
Run, run