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Nowt But Dust

by Young Attenborough

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1.
Big Salad 03:16
If it was predictable it wouldn't be so bad It’s the waking up to discover that today is a down day And there's not much I can do to help that A symphony, transcendent sounds to help your mind move A big salad, greens for the blood A lift of sugar from the fruit A whole new adventure, on the screen of my computer Even better, a walk by the beach A run if I really try to fight I have to try to fight
2.
I don’t read the headlines cos they make me want to cry Not just the stories they’re reporting It’s the hatred, lies and spite I feel stuck, stuck Stuck, stuck I don’t know how to get away from here We’re not coming from the same place You don’t speak for everyone But you’ve got your tar, and you’ve got your brush and you will never understand that everything is wrong here It goes deeper than you think And everything you take for granted is based on ignorance Yet you defend your ill-gained dividends Claim justice, meritocracy A flawed account of history Or something about ‘just the way it is’ So keep your fingers in your ears And keep your head deep in the sandpit I feel stuck, stuck Stuck, stuck I don’t know how to get away from here
3.
It’s unexplained, it’s strange It’s a chemical imbalance, it’s a question of my background It's all just pretend It’s doubting all your friends who've only ever been really nice You don't like me when I talk You don't really want to be around, when I'm around And again it's changed A simple conversation can sometimes drown it out Please be patient friend Sometimes I cant express why it is that I perceive That you don't like me when I talk You don't really want to be around, when I'm around With my eyes open, and my hands cold over my face I'm listening to all the sounds that work around And help me understand these days With my arms crossed, and my fists clenched inside my coat I'm hearing all the sounds that work around And help me understand these days To help my awful feelings fade
4.
Seems like the only jobs these days Are committing suicide in some way And if Lovelock was right and this world's a write-off Should we accept defeat and wait for floods? We let it slip and now we point and click And now it's off our minds We don’t have the time to read the warning signs Bide your time, time will forget you Time will forgot us all And every day the things I hope will be ok Look less and less like they will be ok Muddled, badly laid-out plans at best can go awry Are we waiting for high tides? What are we waiting for?

about

Recorded and mixed by Phil Booth at JT Soar, Nottingham.
Mastered by Joe Caithness at Subsequent Mastering.

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released October 21, 2015

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Young Attenborough Brighton, UK

Poppy indie punk, or something.

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