Biografía:
Monzano's lead singer Sjur Lyseid's side project. From Oslo, Norway. Folkier and slower version of Monzano.
Urort: http://www11.nrk.no/urort/user/?id=52779
Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/thelittlehandsofasphalt
Read more on Last.fm
Otras canciones:
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
The little hands of asphalt - words that kill
Capo 5
C G
The first whiteness unfolds.
F C G
One look out the window and your sold.
C G
A muffled sound as we rolled around
F C G
and a nearby refuge from the cold.
F C
Where your brother had transformed the bed
F C G
into a ship that could keep you safe.
chorus:
C F
But the boy beneath the sheets tonight
C G
is hard to recognize,
C F
with a head that fills, with words that kill
C G
when you run out of things to talk about.
Leaning back on the curb,
outside her parents house in the suburbs.
Her first love was a hopeful one
and you were starry-eyed till the Earth had turned.
But you were the first born son
of a marriage of hit and run.
Chorus:
So ever since you've searched for things
you could easily derail.
And they did, of course,
when you shut those doors.
Is it strange they never understood at all?
No, you were so hard to get.
And all you see now are their silhouettes.
chorus:
As you keep your pace through the cityscape
and its' picture perfect snow.
While the starlit night and city lights
are fighting to let you know
that the innocence, yeah it was well spent,
but it's time to let it go.
'Cause you've got a sharper pen and the best of friends.
So what is there to cry about?
Capo 5
C G
The first whiteness unfolds.
F C G
One look out the window and your sold.
C G
A muffled sound as we rolled around
F C G
and a nearby refuge from the cold.
F C
Where your brother had transformed the bed
F C G
into a ship that could keep you safe.
chorus:
C F
But the boy beneath the sheets tonight
C G
is hard to recognize,
C F
with a head that fills, with words that kill
C G
when you run out of things to talk about.
Leaning back on the curb,
outside her parents house in the suburbs.
Her first love was a hopeful one
and you were starry-eyed till the Earth had turned.
But you were the first born son
of a marriage of hit and run.
Chorus:
So ever since you've searched for things
you could easily derail.
And they did, of course,
when you shut those doors.
Is it strange they never understood at all?
No, you were so hard to get.
And all you see now are their silhouettes.
chorus:
As you keep your pace through the cityscape
and its' picture perfect snow.
While the starlit night and city lights
are fighting to let you know
that the innocence, yeah it was well spent,
but it's time to let it go.
'Cause you've got a sharper pen and the best of friends.
So what is there to cry about?
The Living Anito (...)
The Living Arrow (...)
The Living Siste (...)
The Livingstone (...)
The Local Band
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the loner(s)
The Lonesome Tri (...)
The Long Faces
The Long Ryders
The Long Tall Te (...)