​Howard Hughes' legendary eccentricities stemmed from his mother, who isolated him as an only child in a sterile, germ-phobic bubble. Inheriting vast family wealth, he became a multi-millionaire at age 19. In later life, his mother's intense OCD haunted him; he reverted to a reclusive state, hiding from humanity in sealed, sanitized penthouse suites. Surviving on canned chicken soup, he ran his empire from a bathroom using a multiline phone, and even burned wardrobes of expensive Savile Row suits to destroy perceived contamination.

This is a song I wrote about a little soirée gathering, nicknamed The O'Brien's Bar and Grill a neighbour's house full of wonderful, wacky people who slaughter their sobriety at speed and drift south of sanity as the evening wears on. Fantastic fun!!.

This is a song I wrote for my stepmother, Jean, who is a tower of strength. Even into her 80s, she remains exceptionally sharp of mind and strong. She had to put up with my father for 48 years, which, I can tell you, was a very heavy, burdensome cross to carry.

LOLITA BONITA 
this is a tune I wrote about a raven head young teen dream who blows the fuses of all the old men in Witherspoon's, her nickname is the Lolita Bonita.

This is a song I wrote for Anna  a blues-bar chickadee who melted our minds every Sunday morning. She was a blue-blooded rock chick, educated at Harrogate Ladies’ College, who wore black leather, smoked Berkeley Menthols, and rode a motorbike. She used to walk into our dingy den of iniquity, sit in the corner teasing us to take a dare, then kill us dead with sarcasm and a switchblade stare.

This is a song I wrote about revolution. 
 My grandfather and father were both communists, but once they tasted wealth, they became capitalists .
 Sooner or later, every revolution fails due to human greed, even Fidel Castro had a private collection of American cars and an island of luxury. The Russian elite lived in  "Kremlin klass" whilst their comrades stayed in sackcloth class.
 Now in Britain, the up and coming revolutionaries change their name to fit the frame ; but the game  always stays the same.

This is a song I wrote about the stock markets around the world, which have their own language. In America, they assimilate idioms with animals. Everyone has heard of the "Wolf of Wall Street," but they also have sheep, lame ducks, sharks, gorillas, apes, butterflies, dogs, a dead cat bounce, cockroaches, chickens, stags, and the highly dangerous black swans. Hawks and doves act as the police, while whales are old hedge fund managers like Buffett. The elephants are mutual and pension funds.
 All of these animals have very important meanings. 
 Without understanding this Dr. Dolittle  discourse, you'd get nowhere in the market .

A song I wrote Inspired by advances in bionic hybrid humans, nanotechnology, and D N A cancer fighting T-cells ,  our replacement organs are now grown  in pigs that have been humanised with our own DNA or by  chimerism , while viral vectors and gene therapies blur the boundaries between species. As biology and technology merge, are we in danger of becoming a human hybrid chimera as like the cat on this thumbnail  ?.

This is a song I wrote about the femme fatale that kind of woman against whom you have no real defense; Not only are they extraordinarily beautiful, but they also possess  deadly weapons: charm, intelligence, high brow breeding, and perhaps the most dangerous vice of all vulnerability;Their eyes seem to cry back, "Save me," as though they have the soul of a child refugee  trapped inside them. Unfortunately, this is precisely what the siren projects, by the time you realize , your love boat has already been smashed to pieces upon their jagged rocks

This is a tune I wrote for my godson. It's sung through the eyes of his sister, whom he annoys dreadfully in the usual sibling rivalry. At the moment, he's become Michael Jackson after seeing the new biopic, dancing to "Billie Jean" and all the Jackson 5 tracks.