Biografia:
Will Varley (born in Brixton, London, on 7 March 1987) is a British folk singer and co-founder of the arts collective Smugglers Records.
Varley spent his teenage years in Kingston playing solo shows and singing in bands. His debut album was released on Smugglers Records in July 2011. He plays an explosive and subversive brand of British folk music.
Read more on Last.fm
Outras músicas:
- Advert Soundtrack
- As For My Soul
- As The Crow Flies
- Dark Days Away
- From Halcyon
- I Got This Email
- Is Anyone Out There
- King For A King
- Newborn
- One Last Look At The View
- Outside Over There
- Seize The Night
- Send My Love To The System
- Seven Days
- Something Is Breaking
- Statues
- The Endlessness And The Space Between
- The Man Who Fell To Earth
- The Sound Of The Markets Crashing
- These Are The Days
- This House
- To Build A Wall
- Until The Grass Gets Greener
- We Dont Believe You
- We Want Our Planet Back
- Weddings And Wars
- When Youre Gone
- Where The Wild Wind Blows
Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
Will Varley - The Sound of the Markets Crashing
A D A D A
[Verse 1]
D A
I've been looking for something to hang on to
D A
Looking underneath the sunset of red, orange and blue
D A
As the skies turn black and the winds gently cool
D A
I see nothing in the distance 'cept the burning of fuel
D A
Which rolls out of the wires and then into our brains
D A
Fills our children's minds with regret and with shame
D A
Till they're dreaming of things which they can't understand
D A
And they're standing in nightclubs with knives in their hands
[Chorus 1]
D A
So parliament's hung, I say hang them in chains
D A
Try them for murder and capital gains and
D A
Don't let them down 'til their eyes fill with tears
F#m E A
And the sound of the markets crashing
D A
[Verse 2]
D A
But I don't really care see I don't really mind
D A
Cuz there's nothing but hounds in the election line
D A
As for the edges of these oceans so deep
D A
I say open the gates this land is not ours to keep
D A
Because borders they are nothing except a fence around a hole
D A
Where the thieves keep all of the jewels that they stole
D A
And the walls of Westminster they are painted with blood
D A
And they shine with the souls of the slaves that we rob
[Chorus 2]
D A
And the businessman's empire now lies cold in the mud
D A
And he can't ask for forgiveness because he doesn't have a god,
D A
Except the money in his pockets and his first true love
F#m E A
And the sound of the markets crashing
D A
[Verse 3]
D A
Well I'm heading for the hills, I'm selling my TV
D A
Because I'm tired of being told to buy things I don't need
D A
And I know they will accuse me of apathy
F#m E A
But my feet were made for walking
[Chorus 3]
D A
And I'm not coming back until they see what we are
D A
Just a lost little species who stares at the stars
D A
No I'm not coming back until there's nothing at all,
F#m E A
Except the sound of the markets crashing
F#m E A
Except the sound of the empire crashing
F#m E A
Except the sweet sound of the markets crashing
A D A D A
[Verse 1]
D A
I've been looking for something to hang on to
D A
Looking underneath the sunset of red, orange and blue
D A
As the skies turn black and the winds gently cool
D A
I see nothing in the distance 'cept the burning of fuel
D A
Which rolls out of the wires and then into our brains
D A
Fills our children's minds with regret and with shame
D A
Till they're dreaming of things which they can't understand
D A
And they're standing in nightclubs with knives in their hands
[Chorus 1]
D A
So parliament's hung, I say hang them in chains
D A
Try them for murder and capital gains and
D A
Don't let them down 'til their eyes fill with tears
F#m E A
And the sound of the markets crashing
D A
[Verse 2]
D A
But I don't really care see I don't really mind
D A
Cuz there's nothing but hounds in the election line
D A
As for the edges of these oceans so deep
D A
I say open the gates this land is not ours to keep
D A
Because borders they are nothing except a fence around a hole
D A
Where the thieves keep all of the jewels that they stole
D A
And the walls of Westminster they are painted with blood
D A
And they shine with the souls of the slaves that we rob
[Chorus 2]
D A
And the businessman's empire now lies cold in the mud
D A
And he can't ask for forgiveness because he doesn't have a god,
D A
Except the money in his pockets and his first true love
F#m E A
And the sound of the markets crashing
D A
[Verse 3]
D A
Well I'm heading for the hills, I'm selling my TV
D A
Because I'm tired of being told to buy things I don't need
D A
And I know they will accuse me of apathy
F#m E A
But my feet were made for walking
[Chorus 3]
D A
And I'm not coming back until they see what we are
D A
Just a lost little species who stares at the stars
D A
No I'm not coming back until there's nothing at all,
F#m E A
Except the sound of the markets crashing
F#m E A
Except the sound of the empire crashing
F#m E A
Except the sweet sound of the markets crashing
Willeke Alberti
Willem Barnard
Willem Vermander (...)
Willemijn May
Willet