The Story
The song is as “in your face” as we possibly could without actually punching you (which we neither advocate for, nor encourage, of course). This punchy hard rock track with a disco feel urges you, through its jaunty, sardonic lyrics and attitude, not to take death too seriously: if it comes close, just beat it or dance with it because, at the end of the day, you’ve got places to be.
Producer: Marco Romanelli
Recording: L’esagono
Mix: Clint Murphy
Mastering: Metropolis Studios
Art: Stonks Production
INRI METATRON
Lyrics
Everything South
Taking the pills and maybe cheating death
Pretending to hold it like it’s your last breath
No way I’m answering the god damn phone
Sneaking out through the backdoor
I’m like a dog at midday
Scaring the postman away
Don’t wanna read your mail
But you keep on sending it anyway
CHORUS
Everything’s going south
Death is fooling around
Please don’t fall on me
Grim Reaper, don’t come over, I got places to be
Booking a trip and maybe faking death
New Orleans’ parade of marching bands
I’m undercover at my funeral
Pissing right on my tombstone
I’m like a dog at midday
Chasing the postman away
Don’t wanna read your mail
But you keep on sending it anyway
CHORUS
…
Everything’s going south
Death is a greedy spouse
Please don’t fall for me
Grim Reaper, don’t come over, I got places to be
CHORUS
…
Everything’s going south
Death is fooling around
Please don’t fall on me
Grim Reaper, don’t come over, I got places to be
