"Little Houses" genre: Pop Vocals
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	Kooky offbeat song, but highly catchy. Blends weird folk influences with electronica.
	CD: Unreleased Credits: Garth Horsfield: Vox/programming/piano accordion/recorder
	Story Behind the Song Inspired by watching businessmen zoom home on the freeway en masse to their mortgaged homes in cancerville. Lyrics All the little fast cars are leaving with their masters and crowding on the highway They're coming home to you Eyes at every window show a fear that they don't know The traffic's moving too slow There's nothing they can do No time to look around and no time to feel down And nothing ever changes ain't that grand? There's money to be made and there are bills to be paid As if it really matters ain't that strange? All the pretty houses contain the married spouses they've pictures on their white walls of places never seen Church is on a Sunday and work begins on Monday and every other day is a television dream No time to be afraid so put all your fears away There is a special place just for you Come to the masquerade, we're all drinking lemonade There's not a cloud in sight it's Thursday (payday) You're like a boy with a broken down toy but you don't ever cry and you never say die Your wealth is increasing that's good you suppose... but no-body knows Shattered like a window dreams are real until the wind blows You plan and still you don't know that nothing's what it seems Now the tide is turning like leaves your memories burning Inside your little boxes the pain will fade away.

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