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Urban Folk

by Little Big Noise

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1.
Can you stand on the shoulders of giant and look the small man in the eye, and understand your indiference to a war-crime. Down the line what stands to reason (is that) sick, sad worlds breed sick, sad minds. Crucified consent, and a war to believe in. The bible draws the blinds. Sell your soul, your oil and gold. When you dance with the devil on a personal level we can never dance together. We'll divide earth, wind and fire. And wait for the impending flood. Now advance your legions of lyers to wash away the blood. Save your soul. You'll never save us all - when you live by the sword in the name of the lord we can never live together.
2.
Elation 03:36
Look there beside you. Feel the swelling inside as you look at your friend in the eye. Don't pass it by this time. All the moments that slide to the bottom of the bottle thats sealed and thrown into the tide. We won't break with the wave this time. We climb the seamingly endles swelling (that) subsides far to high (and) we fall hand in hand yelling "I hope that this will last forever!" 'Cos we were the light when the whole world was covered in shadows and we ran shoulders down through the door where we found our elation (with) the familiar faces we thought we'd never know. Now you'll never feel alone. And the failure that you think that you are; well thank your lucky stars that the subject is hanging above you. And accept what you are; the respect for yourself was expecting someone else to love you. On the mountains that meet the clouds we made from the mole-hills that break from the ground we were moved by the sound that made us feel proud to lose our fear, our strife, our reason; The fiction we learn to rely on; that changed with the seasons and that one thing you said that one time when we found our elation (in) desires we find so hard to deny. Why else would we feel so alive? For me its all because of beating hearts on sodden fleaves like mine. And its all because of stories wrote and read just to pass the time. This might just be a game, no matter live or dear. Negate your distain for the others its all in your head. But we're running ahead of the game. We're running ahead of the others. Ahead of ourselves. If this isn't good enough to such out the snake in your mind; I forgot where I started off but will look for the light in your eye. I know you'll hold your elation somewhere, somehow and so high. And so will I.
3.
End of Earth 02:21
I know we'd thrown it away, our best intentions were hopeless, when we hit the growned and watched the heat rush over us, and I looked back on the irony; on the inevitability; why should we be sad? I know we weren't so bad. Yeah but we weren't so good either. We needed the rich to have the poor, like we needed the strong to have the weak, like we needed the good to have the evil. And the universe will forget with us at the end of the day. All the years we've been trying to make a difference, no difference was made. We never had a chance. All the years we've been trying never made much sense. We could have been made for such great things, but we all had that suspicion (that) insignificance bring. So if we tried to do right, Oh well it really wasn't worth it; at the end of the earth it all just melted away. I know we weren't so bad now. Yeah but we weren't so good either. There was always something wrong so lets just look back laughing as the heat rushes over.
4.
Does it make life read like harmless fun now that Oxford dons make puns for The Sun and the measures truth they shy away from a responcibility to show. To be thin they've got tips, for the fat; guilt trips, and advertisments to move it from your ass to your lips, and they show saggy tits and armpit drips 'cos the people have a right to know. The media serves the new like processed food that we such from a tube every day. We'll sit democracy on the toilet seat and shit another vote away. See The Mail make the case that there's not enough space for an island race with aggression misplaced to a fear that based on a chance birthplace and a different colour on your face. Blame the gays and hoods and immigrants for sickness, greed, and violence, while they scatch the itch on the backs of the rich and inequality shoots skywards. With The Sun will rise the simplified horizon of hate and fear. To Express the minority, reactionary view that we never wanted your kind here. 'Cos The Telegraph keeps the upper class daft and The Mail means ignorance prevails, while The Sport keeps our attention short on The Star from grace we'll fall. But if you resent with such dismay wading through this shit every day, its a small price to pay for the freedom to say anything at all. By design we'll never be wise to a contradiction like the red top blues. You're the chicken and the egg of society's view where the rich are appeased and the poor accused. (la la la la la la la la)
5.
I bet you think you know just about what I'm thinking and what floats this shit as it sink. In the end I hope we all get what we wanted, but this is relative, we should not take it for granted. And to twist the knife in the heart of another unintentional, soulful murder. I know how Lady MacBeth looked down at her hands at a fleeting attraction and the gilt that wasn't part of the plan. I don't expect for you to understand. If I could only go back to just one moment I guess it wouldn't be with you. I'd rather be alone in a beautiful place. And I'd never want to see your face if you could look inside my mind. But I hope you know everyone has their dark side. Is it ever worth it? I can't be certain. Its not my place to let someone get hurt and there's no such thing as a harmless flurt now you really care. I'm so confused I could cry. I'd rather me than you. I don't know why. I should be one of the kind that deals with this fine, but my heart and mind are always out of line. Seems so blury now to see something burning through. Could this be enough? Is it strong enough? Is there time enough to find another heart like mine?
6.
This dreamer of dreams has been weaving his schemes, has been sowing the seams of our sleeves together with fairytale fibres and fanciful flights of kaleidoscope lives coming too close to heaven. His morals are bound; intentions are sound in the cobwebbed corners of his head. But blow the dust around and something so profound emanates throughout the day in the skin that he sheds. So sadly, yet so willingling he'll devise the distrust of a friend. Triangular thoughts leave this theif so distraught as fate deals him the joker again. But who was to say, who would dare understand how we found a way not to be lonely. To be at the hands of loves sick and fickle plans; they're so sly, I think they're beyond me. Your so sly I think your beyond me. Buy me a bridge and cry me a river, we'll drop our sticks downs and watch them reappear together. And I'll just in to save them, to play you a rhythm. A six-eight time tribute to how I felt this thing called happiness this boy understands when you're with him. Progress to regress and thoughts of distress as sweet fantasies don't amount to happiness. We'll ride this double helix and I'll perform backflips behind fragile walls made of rose tinted perspex. Perplexion so great; a notion misplaced in another excuse of a song. Direction so straight to an uncertain fate, only time can negotiate where we went wrong. So run your hands around this boy I promise we'll take on them all. The senses attack; we'll hit them right back with the fact that every feeling will fall. But who was to say who would dare understand how we found our way not to be lonely. And to be at the hands of loves sick and fickle plans; they're so sly that I think they're beyond me. You're so sly I think you're beyond me. How can you heal, how can you helps this boy who was never quite sure of himself. I know what I make out of gross introspections, reflecting and eternally turning your questions. And I'll try to sing about something, but I can't seem to think about anything else.
7.
Split second sunshine left me reeling, hook and line after line after time after time in between I pine. While we spit torrents timeless, leave me restless sleepless night after night with my mind out of sight as I lie in the absent light of an absent perceived perfection. Endless scenarios beg by awkward affections. I have my health, my life, my friends, and this other consuming and significant dull pain. And like this city's famous rain, I've fallen again. Graces broken down to bite don't satisfy my appetite. Oh well. Something isn't right. In my attempt to read the signs there lies the problem. I said goodbye. Intentions let fly. Behind the curtains that covered our colours, how am I supposed to know when it's time to go? The blank spaces that run through this. Are they wasted on you? Feels so weightless. I just slipped through this. Am I wasted on you? Speak soft suggestions. I anticipate reactions stare after stare, how unfair how I care, how I dare to instigate concessions to your snap-shot decisions. Come easier ambitions, hope against hope after joke after bad joke and off the rails in this tunnel collision. I'll sketch your soul silver and gold, a diamond to light your new home. Something precious, something quiet started shouting when you came. And like this city's famous rain I've fallen again. Caution or apathy; whatever wrote this song for me; I can't tell. Oh well. Something isn't right. What if my fears where justified? Maybe next time i'll find (something). Behind the curtains that covered our colours, how am I supposed to know when it's time to go? And like this city's famous rain, I know its time to wait inside a while. I don't trust you to let me know when it's time to go.
8.
The future was bright. The smiling horizons of naivety. How brutal the bite. An idea imposed so arbitrarily. Ideal type born free. Living through life on the contrary. Ideals die while thoughts flee. Law as a lie. As the end of me. One trip. You'll be sentenced. You'll see. What's this? I mean no harm. We innocent sons of liberty. Good citizens known to the authorities. Fresh fruit fallen from the old state tree, will all hang under the gallows. You can be nice. A shining desciple to your empathy. And you can be right with passion the guide of rationality. Don't lose sight of a smile. It's only mankind here that's on trial. Late the burn out for a while. The powers that be the tantrum of a small child. One trip. You'll be sentenced. You'll see. What's this? I mean no harm. We innocent sons of liberty. Good citizens known to the authorities. Fresh fruit fallen from the old state tree, will all hang under the gallows. Don't try running. There's no choice in a force that will hunt you down. Don't try violence. Only silence and submission will help you now. But can we leave The Man behind? Can we force freedom to fly? Where were the laughs? Where was the love for our democracy? We raised the trough, and flattened the peak now we're in pergatory. Normality lost, like a boy in a boat on a calm see, control is not the core of the existence of society. One trip. You'll be sentenced. You'll see. Now justice; we need your arm. We innocent sons of liberty. Good citizens know to the authorities. Fresh fruit fallen from the old state tree will all hang under the gallows.
9.
Dirty Hands 04:36
Why do we seek appoval desperately; take ourselves to seriously; wanting all the time. And why do we scratch the face so lightly; lick the palm so dirty; never look behind of what we buy. Why can't we all just get along; can't we all just be friend; can't we focus on good things. And why can't we let peace ring in all we believe in as sure as the dove sings. So easily forced to forget the source of our cheap and endless supply. The quality the makers can't afford to buy. Now alienate the worker from their culture; alienate the conscience from the war. Ignore the blood of centuries on our hands. Too sick to see the legacy on our hands. Expect to get away with it on your hands, and like before say never again all over again. Why can't we keep a projection of a solid predictions of a global affliction. And what about the children and they're children and what we will leave them. The deal has been done for the innocent ones whos seeds are yet to be sown. We've fired the gun to run them to the bone. And how can they be proud, in our ambitions they are bound. Our spirits following them into the ground. Ignore the blood of centuries on your hands. Too sick to see the legacy on your hands. Expect to get away with it on your hands, and like before say never again all over again. When is it our turn to lie destitute, with nothing between our bellies and the sky. Space and time are ambivalent to the moment of a man who in his luxury forgets to ask why.
10.
Stepping stones were where I was strong, now one giant leap and everyones gone and I'm not here either 'cos there's no one to see me. Anyway, I'm not here for not very long. And we were only trying to enjoy ourselves but we had to subsequently be destroying ourselves. Where theres this conflict of interest we don't like conversation. The knife follows bomb follows useless legislation. And the place that we left was a desolate one. And desolation alone is not much fun. And this land laid to waste this is mine to run, but whats the worth when there's no destination to come... And nothings going to grow here anymore. And even if it would, what for? 'Cos there's no one left around to catch these feelings lost and never found again, that used to make this so worthwhile. But from the outside does it matter if we're here or if we're gone. So many times so many struggled and nothing really changed at all. Sink in the ground I know you didn't die alone, but with everything that made with all so worthwhile. And I was standing on the edge of this new reality between the sky and the soil made only for me. And you'd think i'd be happy, you'd think i'd be free, because there's no one to argue, but there's no one to across. And if there's no one to show then there's nothing to share, and if there's no one to know then there's no one to care. I used to think that I liked my own company, but that was only when I knew that someone was there. And nothing's going to grow here anymore. And ever if it would what for? 'Cos there's no one left around to catch these feelings lost and never found again, that used to make this so worth while. But from the outside does it matter if we're here or if we're gone. So many times so many struggled and nothing really changed at all. Sink in the ground I know you didn't die alone, but with everything that made this all so worthwhile. And the fires that destroyed the cities were nothing compared to this; the lonely confusion of the only survivor and the reason the people I missed: What's now right? What's now wrong? I don't know. And we never had a chance, and there's nothing left to sing. Like I said whats confusing; not being percieved; I might as well just forget everything. 'Cos nothings going to grow here anymore. Thank god, what good would that be for? If we were just vesels for lost souls that crashed and burned. 'Cos nothings going to grow here anymore. Thank god, what good would that be for, if we were just random collisions that don't understand. From the outside does it matter if we're here or if we're gone. So many time so many changes; I guess it never matters to some whether tomorrow comes. Thank god it never will, if thats when we lose what makes this so worthwhile.

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self released debut from an eclectic and passionate acoustic artist

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released January 12, 2010

All songs written by Nick Torry
Produced by Alex Iossifidis and Nick Torry

Nick Torry - Guitar & Vocals

Extra Instumentation:
Oliver Stirrup - Bass & Ebo
Truly Johnson - Violin & Saxaphone
Nick Walters - Trumpet and Flugelhorn

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Little Big Noise Greater London, UK

Little Big Noise is the acoustic folk/punk brainchild of South East London based singer-songwriter Nick Torry

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