I wrote this little ditty after listening to a dear friend who's a lay preacher telling me that i may not be entering into the kingdom of heaven , i answered by stating that i did not want to go to heaven and he asked why surprised stating did i want to go to hell ? , i mentioned i would be quite happy to remain in limbo or purgatory rather than enter into the either where billions upon billions of souls from our past bitter waring human beings would be residing ; after experiencing the enormous divide that we have on this small mad mud island called Britain i really couldn't think of anything worse than to be crushed into a garden of eden with ever so many more people than there are here unless of course that their cantankerous contemptuous souls had been completely cleansed of all human trace in heaven's giant launderette , I have visions of souls on coat hangers totally transparent similar to the plastic covers at the dry cleaners.

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The Belles Angels a song I wrote for a bunch of hell raising Harrogate girls all leather and lace they murdered every midnight hour slaking an slaughtering sobriety , to all those super sexy Ladies college girls I say God bless you all . All rights reserved.

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A short song I wrote about owning a car in the swinging sixties which was extremely rare especially for young people but if it was a jaguar then you were the nouveau rich make believe millionaires the fake faux movie stars members of my family and their friends were just this usually their balloons burst into bankruptcy debt and divorce, too much money in young hands its like mixing desire together with hell fire . All rights reserved

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A short song i wrote about riding aboard the busiest train in Europe the 7.32 Woking to Waterloo one hundred million passengers a year pass through Waterloo which makes for some terrifying or tantalising flesh to flesh points of view . All rights reserved.

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This is a song I wrote for supertramp a friend who became homeless through drink one of the Montpellier mice , our band of bonhomie brothers who lived with such reckless abandonment to the stage where some would drink your bathroom cabinet dry aftershave aperitifs and cough medicine cognacs all round. Three days a week I take a coffee with the alcoholics I wrote this song whilst looking across at a homeless person living in a doorway of an abandoned gallery and think how fragile we are . All rights reserved

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This is a short song I wrote for Colette's birthday she's an angel faced florist who works out of a norman church on a country estate, surrounded by angelic statues all halos and wings adding to this heavenly scene is her being bathed and baptized in the divine light from the stain glassed windows along with the scent from the flowers you think you've arrived at the garden of Eden, but then again when she puts on her leather and lace and hits the town well that's a different story , A Saturday night sinner and a Sunday morning Saint. All rights reserved.

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A short story I wrote about doing a favour for a friend which then turned into a terrifying experience of trying to get back to some semblance of civilization .

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A short musing about a chalk and cheese Husband and wife with very opposing opinions on the arrival of some neo hippie neighbours with their green dream machine .

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A little Ditty for Unis the Philipino irish girl who worked at the crown hotel and blew the minds and trousers of all those old pensioners from the Harrogate rotary club .

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A short story I wrote about doing a favour for a friend which then turned into a terrifying experience of trying to get back to some semblance of civilization .

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Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson6/message