A song about an artist girlfriend and her crazy cultural crew,  their works of art or gestation periods of genius seem to carry similar traits and time scales to those of real pregnancies .

This is about a young county lines guy we call LILY THE KID because he looks so girlish an angelic to be a druggie anyhow he's now disappeared on the run from police and a gang of heavy drug dealers from Bradford who dauntless want their money.

Let loose the Dogs of War and loose the rule of law . Mercenaries are now employed by ever superpower in the world the problem now is they're starting to bite the hands that trained and fed them .

Cast wise opinion,

as to who holds dominion,   

or die a minion. 

My father said that Gandhi had saved his life through his wisdom and peace , shame we don't see more leaders with this capability of Khama .

The Oxfam shop or as we call it "The dead man's drop" is an essential part of our high street culture we all of us at some stage find ourselves sifting through their silt as if stroking and smelling the scents and spirits of our past relatives like some lost and found bric-a-brac burial ground we old elephants come to rummage around amongst the bones and skin of our not so long ago departed kin. Unfortunately all the objects mentioned in this musing is what I have purchased and given away to friends and family as Christmas and birthday presents including many more objects d'arts or as most of my recipient's see them , jumble sale junk.

The blues bar girls where the Amazonian hell raisers we called them the Sisters of Satan, all in black leather they drank from dawn till dusk fuelled on speed an cocaine they'd come in singing and swinging , heaven help the men who fell in love they'd use an abuse ya then leave ya heart bitten raw like a old dogs chew bar.

Buying power tools at the hardware store? you truly may as well  arm yourself with a weapon of war and become yet another DIY casualty score , around the world figures run to hundreds of thousands body counts are higher than in most modern theatres of war .

A little Irish reel written in three four time it's about a person called sanctimonious stan there's one in every bar room they're like a voice of doom, a skull on a stick that belongs in a catacomb.

A little ditty I wrote for lillian's birthday who was born on the first of may now aged nine .all rights reserved

Every day the paparazzi serve us our sadistic sacrifice all flesh red and raw, no good being a herbivore if you read the daily tabloid's blood and gore , You've really got to be a proper cover story carnivore with the stomach of a toreador , let's face it the press room's a slaughtering house stable and the editor's desk is nothing more than the butcher's table.

Written for a dear priestly friend who's soul was torn between the sacred and secular of flesh and faith which brought him torment and temptation .