This is a song I wrote about how old guitars are now becoming works of art, where people acquire them for their musical museums. 
 One guy I know air plays them at home on a mirrored stage with spot lights an black leather .
 The thumbnail shows The black Strat which sold for £13.6 million dollars.

I wrote this song after hearing how the gambling citadels / casinos of the world spend billions crafting their digital Devil's delusions to make the punters feel they're one moment from winning the jackpot.
The sons of perdition have certainly built some of the most magnificent Temples to Temptation.

A song I wrote after visiting my brother who lives in Thailand,
I was struck by the close proximity of sin , every one of the seven deadies were available 24/7 and the foreign tourists readily participated in the promiscuous perversions untill it became a normality; their hearts and souls seemed stained and tainted by it.

A song wrote  for  my religious friends who keep telling me I should come and join the congregation and learn how to pray . I thought a sort of powerful sung prayer come requiem my attempt to celebrate with Jerry my wonderful worldly wise lay preacher and also J B the Irish Cannon from trinity college who I shared spirit and space with . Amen to both of you ,I hope you both made it across into the kingdom of heaven I'm sure they're still looking down upon me a shaking their heads with bemused beatific  disappointment ,as always

A song I wrote for a little girl called Unis the Filipino irish beauty who worked at the Crown Hotel Harrogate she blew the minds and Fuses of all male pensioners in the rotary club
 Ooh la la Bonita.

This is a song I wrote about a serial killer who, disturbingly, was a nun. She was convicted of seven homicides, though it is believed that as many as one hundred victims may be connected to her. She became known as Mother Mariam, the Abbess of a high altitude convent perched on a remote mountaintop.
The story bares an uncanny resemblance to the film the black Narcissus.

This is a song I wrote. I had to listen to a friend of mine this morning  a dreadfully overweight businessman  telling me that he was on a treadmill he couldn’t get off.
 I know the feeling , today another  commuter threw themselves under the train at Doncaster. I then had to five different connections , by the time I’d finished, I thought I was going to have a massive jammer; no wonder we call it the heart attack hill this trans- Siberian  treadmill.

A song about the sugar daddy girls that hunt down older husband for money.