Little Rivers

from by Paul Liddell

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lyrics

LITTLE RIVERS

There was a man who / Stood in many places
Walked on many roads / Looked on many faces
But never knew the names / Behind the many faces
And in the many places / He stood alone

And for the man who / Stood in many places
It seemed that time stood still / And for good or ill
He bore the pain of changes / A stoic cold and still
His mantra left unsaid / Repeated in his head

Don’t cry those little rivers it’s just time for a new beginning
Blunt your heart’s edge / Make your soul stone’s flesh

And while the man he / Travelled many roads
The giant steps of others / Of greater means and stride
Wearing younger faces / Wearing cleaner clothes
Seeking kingdoms greater / Travelled wider roads
And the man was lost from sight / In the shadow of their stride
But the man who stood alone / Turned aside from ways so wide
And sought the nameless faces / To bless with shining eyes
Ringing ears and joy / While whispering the mantra in his mind

Don’t cry those little rivers it’s just time for a new beginning
Blunt your heart’s edge / Make your soul stone’s flesh

And then the man who / Blessed the nameless faces
Learned the names of places / At the end of roads
And watched his shadow grow / Deep wide and tall
And an understanding came / Concerning roads
Roads can lead to places / As yet unknown
But roads can also lead the way back home
The man repeats his mantra / Holds it like a beacon bright
Following his feet while whispering the mantra in his mind

Don’t cry those little rivers it’s just time for a new beginning
Blunt your heart’s edge / Make your soul stone’s flesh

credits

from The Mean Seeds Of Yield, released October 7, 2016

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Paul Liddell Sunderland, UK

Paul's modern take on the 'one man band' using live loops, guitar percussion, harmonies and effects has seen him support artists such as Turin Brakes, Jon Gomm and Billy Bragg. A diverse and challenging writer with a unique voice, his live performances range from whispering intensity to a white knuckle, edge of your seat, ear splittingly glorious racket. ... more

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