Verse 1

Young girl living in a small town,
Life all around was getting her down.
But she could escape from all of this,
In the room of dreams, she found her bliss.

Chorus

Dancing to Leif Garrett, poster on the wall,
Turning up the music, answering the call.
Spinning in her bedroom, moving to the beat,
Twelve years old and life could feel so sweet.

Verse 2

Lazy summer days, Walkman in her hand,
A boy she would watch from the caravan.
She carried that secret, a heart beating true,
Writing his name in a book of blue.

Chorus

Dancing to Leif Garrett, poster on the wall,
Turning up the music, answering the call.
Spinning in her bedroom, moving to the beat,
Twelve years old and life could feel so sweet.

Verse 3

This summer adventure has ended,
Back to the school that she dreaded.
Holding on tight to what freedom means,
Living her life in the room of dreams.

Chorus

Dancing to Leif Garrett, poster on the wall,
Turning up the music, answering the call.
Spinning in her bedroom, moving to the beat,
Twelve years old and life could feel so sweet.

Bridge

Someday she’ll leave that small-town street,
But twelve years old still feels so sweet.
A fleeting time, a secret flame,
The room of dreams, where nothing’s the same.

Chorus

Dancing to Leif Garrett, poster on the wall,
Turning up the music, answering the call.
Spinning in her bedroom, moving to the beat,
Twelve years old and life could feel so sweet.

Outro

Echoes, cassette radio in her room,
Songs that told her she was made to move.

Dancing to Leif Garrett, poster on the wall,
Turning up the music, answering the call.

Dancing to Leif Garrett, poster on the wall,
Turning up the music, answering the call.
(Fade)

Dancing to Leif Garrett

I feel incredibly lucky to be the age I am. Born into the world when the Beatles changed everything, shaped by the great song storytellers of the ’70s, swept up in the sound revolutions of punk, disco, and new wave, and partied through the electric ’80s. Now in my 60s, I get to draw on all of that — life, love, chaos, beauty — and stand on the shoulders of giants to tell my own stories in song

This album was never meant for the charts — it was meant for me.
Written after a scotch or two on quiet Saturday nights, these 11 tracks carry the fingerprints of a life lived, loved, lost, and occasionally laughed at.

Some songs are straight from experience. Others? They wandered in after a few top-shelf drams and made themselves at home. Together, they make up a personal mixtape of memory and imagination — reflections whispered to the only audience that truly matters.

An Audience of One is not just a title.
It’s a reminder that sometimes the most honest songs are sung when no one else is listening.

Dancing to Leif Garrett

Saturday Ghosts