A little tune I written for the God children, its in a cockney rhyming slang 3/4 time in the old music hall style which takes a bit of doing when you're from North Yorkshire where the accent is so different.

A song about the macabre story of a grandmother who's ashes were made into a bone china plate by her broken hearted lover the practice of using powdered human bone in pottery still continues to this day with artists such as Crow and Kraft who call it crafting Cremains

Beware Kelts carrying potheen that Irish moonshine can certainly leave you for dead I fell in love with an Irish girl in Montpellier France who brewed her own mountain dew the first time I tried it my legs faltered and I slept in the corridor of a hotel unable to make it back to my bed. "Slange Var" was her favourite expression.

The boys in blue they watch over me and you it takes a person strong and true to risk their life in order to protect someone they never knew.

Thinking back to my parents' fate, it's hard to see how they once romantically passed through the Eden Gate into the land of milk and money, where they fell hopelessly in love and felt the urge to passionately procreate. Afterward, they wore the mortgage mask, a twenty-five-year servile task eventually paying back the bank manager's seven percent overdraft. They scrimped and scraped in a steel city strife, and then this beleaguered husband and wife decided to search out a big world party and a brand new life.

They both sat before a monk-faced magistrate who annulled their vows of matrimony, awarding one spouse the house and the other a monthly allowance of alimony. Friends and family tried to console and commiserate, all in vain and far too late, as both parties now had hearts made of suede and heads full of hate.

A song for a old woman who kept hidden in her silver box those ever so secret letters of love from a long dead lover who in a moment of war when passion was the fashion she fed hers red and raw to a hungry dog of amour . All rights reserved.

We should all say a prayer for Jerusalem, for this ancient old city has been steeped in so much blood; they say that it's the Kingdom of heaven but mankind seems to want to make it into its kingdom of hell.

A song I wrote as I was wondering what sort of Frankenstein freaks we would shape-shift to and how we would look if we were to ware our soul's within on the outside of our skin what ghouls and gargoyles we might see hence why I sing that Frankenstein's a friend of mine most men might not be happy with their spiritual spectras .

Steve McQueen once said he came from the gutter and that he'd not done bad for an orphan boy , after a fifty different jobs from lumberjack, getaway driver, pimp and gunrunner etc he finally found his niche .

a short song I wrote and sang this morning , its about being under the total command of a fat controller