More songs by Zach Bryan
Description
Cello: Ana Monwah Lei
Tenor Saxophone: Andy McCormick
Trumpet: Austin Stunkard
Assistant Engineer: Colton Jean
Engineer: Gabe Wax
Background Vocals: Gabe Wax
Violin: Hannah Cohen
Background Vocals: Heaven Schmitt
Trombone: Isaac Washam
Mixer: Jacquire King
Engineer: Jake Weinberg
Acoustic Guitar: Keenan O'Meara
Piano: Keenan O'Meara
Background Vocals: Keenan O'Meara
Mandolin, Violin: Lucas Ruge-Jones
Background Vocals: Lucas Ruge-Jones
Drums: Nate Head
Electric Guitar: Noah LeGros
Masterer: Pete Lyman
Banjo: Read Connolly
Trumpet: Ryan Hatcher
Viola: Samantha Uzbay
Engineer: Scott Zhang
Trumpet: William Werthimer
Electric Guitar: Zach Bryan
Producer: Zach Bryan
Lead Vocals: Zach Bryan
Bass: Zephyr Avalon
Writer: Zach Bryan
Lyrics and translation
Original
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Think
I'm going to Santa Fe, type of place they won't know my name.
My grandma called just yesterday to say she loves me, man, I was raised.
Grown so weary of all of this, and every day's a precipice.
They pissed me off and pissed on all the friends I ever made.
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Open, broken, you can find yourself back home. Old man's token, drunk and dirty on a desert road.
Well, I've been to Santa
Fe before, drank a million beers at the Matador.
Sleep in your jeans in the back of your camper 'cause that's all you got to your name.
Think I'm going to Santa Fe, type of place they won't know my name.
Never talk to no one again and never sing another song.
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Open, broken, you can find yourself back home.
Old man's old place, drunk and dirty on a desert road.
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Open, broken, you can find yourself back home.
Old man's old place, drunk and dirty on a desert road.
Think
I'm going to Santa Fe, type of place they won't know my name.
Pissed me off and pissed on all the friends I ever made.
English translation
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Think
I'm going to Santa Fe, type of place they won't know my name.
My grandma called just yesterday to say she loves me, man, I was raised.
Grown so weary of all of this, and every day's a precipice.
They pissed me off and pissed on all the friends I ever made.
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Open, broken, you can find yourself back home. Old man's token, drunk and dirty on a desert road.
Well, I've been to Santa
Fe before, drank a million beers at the Matador.
Sleep in your jeans in the back of your camper 'cause that's all you got to your name.
Think I'm going to Santa Fe, type of place they won't know my name.
Never talk to no one again and never sing another song.
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Open, broken, you can find yourself back home.
Old man's old place, drunk and dirty on a desert road.
Call up your mother, tell her that you're all alone with some sky out by Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Open, broken, you can find yourself back home.
Old man's old place, drunk and dirty on a desert road.
Think
I'm going to Santa Fe, type of place they won't know my name.
Pissed me off and pissed on all the friends I ever made.