Cruellest Mirror takes aim at vanity, envy, and the trap of comparison. Each verse calls out the seven deadly sins, while the chorus smashes the mirror that feeds them. Dark synths, driving beats, and a defiant hook turn this into a dance-floor anthem about breaking free and standing on your own terms.  

Verse 1 (envy/pride)
Measuring worth by the shoes you wear,
High-rise dreams but the cupboard’s bare.
Buying respect with a fist of gold,
Run too fast and you lose control.

Chorus (with call-and-response)
Cruelest mirror is the one that compares
(“Compares!”)
Smash it to pieces, leave it there
(“Right there!”)
No need to copy what’s already there
(“Don’t care!”)
Be one of a kind, beyond compare
(“Oh yeah!”)

Verse 2 (greed/lust)
Silver tongues and a hunger for more,
Buying love at the corner store.
Chasing flesh like a prize to claim,
Lose yourself in the heat of the game.

Chorus (with call-and-response)
Cruelest mirror is the one that compares
(“Compares!”)
Smash it to pieces, leave it there
(“Right there!”)
No need to copy what’s already there
(“Don’t care!”)
Be one of a kind, beyond compare
(“Oh yeah!”)

Verse 3 (wrath/sloth/gluttony)
Feeding rage with a bitter bite,
Lazy days blur into the night.
Drown your sorrow, the glass won’t care,
Still the mirror is waiting there.

Chorus (with call-and-response)
Cruelest mirror is the one that compares
(“Compares!”)
Smash it to pieces, leave it there
(“Right there!”)
No need to copy what’s already there
(“Don’t care!”)
Be one of a kind, beyond compare
(“Oh yeah!”)

Bridge / Breakdown (7 deadly sins)
Greed and lust, they burn too fast,
Pride and envy — they never last.
Wrath and sloth will drag you in,
Gluttony hides ‘neath a sugar grin.
(Gang vocal: “Learn the lesson, don’t give in!”)

Outro (chant / funk groove)
Smash it, walk on, don’t look back,
Smash it, walk on, don’t look back.

Cruellest mirror

Pulse of the Night is a fun, floor-first dance track — born from memories of late-night DJ sets between 1982 and 1993, when one groove could light up the room. Blending disco-funk bass, trumpet riffs, chant vocals, and shimmering synths, it’s pure escapism: a reminder that sometimes you don’t need a reason to gather, just a beat worth following.

Verse 1
Step into the glow, a spark in your stare
Every heartbeat’s loud, nothing else compares


Take my hand, don’t hold it back
Spin with me, no turning track
We’re alive in the rhythm of the night


[Hook phrase + chant backing]
Pulse of the night, moving side to side
Let the sound lift us high, burning in our mind
Pulse of the night, never asking why
We just move (Move)


[Vocal chop “Oh-oh, the night” in rotating Atmos motion]
[Trumpet riff L/R, synth stab unison rear-top]


Heat across the floor, colors start to rise
Every shadow fades when I see your eyes

Fingers interlace, bodies find their way
In this rhythm, there is only us

Only us (us) tonight (tonight)


“Turn it up, don’t slow it down…”
[Snare build → big drop back to chorus]


Pulse of the night, moving side to side
Let the music guide us (hhheeeey)
Pulse of the night, never asking why
We just dance until the light, chasing through the night


[Trumpet solo rear-left + synth pad fade rear-top]
[Percussion loop fades into silence]
[Last whispered line center:]
“This rhythm never fades…”




Pulse of the night

Parchment and Ink tells the story of a man chasing fortune across four decades — from diamond mines to oil wells, from promise to ruin. Each verse marks a ten-year chapter, capturing both the rise of industry and the collapse of the soul behind it. It’s a cautionary ballad of greed, ambition, and the heavy price measured not in gold, but in lives. A folk-epic written in ink, set against the backdrop of history.

Verse 1 – 1897
Adventure calls to increase my wealth,
But this desert slowly steals my health.
To raise my kin for a brighter time,
And journey back to my homeland, sometime.

Chorus 1 
Blood diamonds cut from my bones,
Dreams of fortune carved in stone.
Weigh the mark in parchment and ink,
Luck runs dry before I blink.

Verse 2 – 1907
Fortune changed with one mis-hit,
Oil came rising where the pickaxe split.
Ten long years and the dust still clings,
Black gold flows but it curses kings.

Chorus 2 
Little Boston, once a ranch,
Now it thrives where the wells advance.
Newfound wealth from the crude we sold,
Industries born of this black gold.

Verse 3 – 1917
20 years since I struck the ground,
My find drew men around.
Many souls would die in the pits,
Just so they’d receive their split.

Chorus 3 
Black oil rising out of the ground,
Fortunes made while men fall down.
Weigh your life in parchment and ink,
All is lost much faster than you think.

Verse 4 – 1927
30 years since I first struck stone,
Now I rot in this house alone.
In a vast mansion, drunk and bloated,
Cut from family, my name corroded.

Chorus 4 
Black oil burning through my veins,
Greed builds empires, but leaves only chains.
Count your worth in parchment and ink,
But the grave comes quicker than you think.




Parchment and Ink

Inspired by the wild 1985 case where John Fogerty was sued for sounding like himself. I’d just had one of my own tracks flagged as a “cover” when it wasn’t — so this satirical swamp-rock tune was born. Brotherhood, betrayal, and a courtroom blues where the only crime is being yourself.

👉 Listen, laugh, and wonder: can you copyright a heartbeat?

Verse 1
We were saints in the spotlight, brothers in sound,
Rolling on a river till the tide turned around.
Bad moon rising on the edge of our fame,
One voice, one fire, one shared name.

Verse 2
But contracts cut deeper than blood ever could,
Paper and profit tore through brotherhood.
Said my echo was theft of the man I’d been,
Like an old man down the road come walking again.

Chorus
I plagiarized the man I used to be,
Sold myself the rights to my own melody.
You can jail my shadow, but you can’t own me,
If it’s a crime to be myself, throw away the key.

Verse 3
The jury leaned forward, pens scratching my fate,
Lawyers argued rhythm at a furious rate.
The judge tapped the gavel, said, “Sing us a line —
Have you ever seen the rain, and swear it is mine?”

Bridge
Can you copyright a heartbeat?
Can you trademark the sky?
If a song runs through the jungle,
Does the spirit still fly?

Verse 4
Now the spotlight is smaller, but it still burns true,
No label, no jury can tell me what to do.
The past keeps on echoing, but I walk my own run,
Still a fortunate son with the same old song.

Chorus
I plagiarized the man I used to be,
Sold myself the rights to my own melody.
You can jail my shadow, but you can’t own me,
If it’s a crime to be myself, throw away the key.




Crime to be Myself

Crime to be myself

Diamond Skin isn’t just about shine, it’s about resilience. The lyric holds the idea that pressure leaves marks, but also creates strength skin that remembers every scrape and still reflects the light. The track moves between fragility and defiance: a body you can bruise, but not break; a heart that’s scarred, but still gleams. It sits in that space where vulnerability becomes its own kind of armour.  

Verse 1
Silver lights on a midnight stage,
Every step marks a hidden cage.
Whispers chasing the shape I’m in,
Can’t get closer to diamond skin.

Chorus
Diamond skin,  I shine, I sting,
Glitter and venom in everything.
Diamond skin, don’t let me in,
Play with fire, you’ll never win.

Verse 2
Velvet grin in a glass parade,
Danger sweet in the games we’ve played.
Hidden truths burn beneath the skin,
Bleed your love, you won’t get in.

Chorus
Diamond skin — I shine, I sting,
Glitter and venom in everything.
Diamond skin , don’t let me in,
Play with fire, you’ll never win.

Bridge 
I say I need affection,
As I make the venom injection.

Final Chorus 
Diamond skin , I shine, I sting,
Glitter and venom in everything.
Diamond skin, eternal sin,
Drink your heart through my diamond skin.

Outro
Diamond skin, eternal sin,
(I taste the night beneath your skin)
Diamond skin — eternal sin,
(Your blood, my fire, we begin)
Diamond skin, eternal sin.

Diamond Skin - Torhya B (Remix)

7 Doors isn’t just about abstract fate, it’s about those strange stretches of stillness where nothing shifts… and then suddenly, every choice arrives at once. Almost overwhelming, like life saving up all its forks in the road and dumping them on you in a single hallway.

Verse 1
Seven doors in a narrow hall,
Choose one, the rest are lost to all.
The first door shone with a golden light,
But promise faded into night.
The second seemed a broken place,
Yet led me on to truth’s embrace.

Chorus
Seven doors in a crooked line,
Some are mercy, some are crime.
Step through one and the rest all fade,
Every choice is the life you’ve made.

Verse 2
The third rang out with silver cheer,
A laugh that turned to lies unclear.
The fourth stood quiet, cold and still,
It offered peace but broke my will.

Chorus
Seven doors in a crooked line,
Some are mercy, some are crime.
Step through one and the rest all fade,
Every choice is the life you’ve made.

Verse 3
The fifth door whispered, “you’ll be free,”
But locked its chains around my key.
The sixth one burned with fire’s demand,
A gift that vanished from my hand.

Chorus
Seven doors in a crooked line,
Some are mercy, some are crime.
Step through one and the rest all fade,
Every choice is the life you’ve made.

Bridge
The seventh waited, silent, near
A final step, an end unclear.
Seven voices calling me,
Some in sorrow, some in glee.
One door sighed, “you’ve come too late,”
Another laughed at the twist of fate.

Final Chorus (variation)
Seven doors, only one is mine,
Future waits on the ties I bind.
Step through once and the world will change,
Seven doors, but none remain.




Seven Doors

Verse 1
I’ve been drawing my travels in pencil and ink,
It’s the place my wandering mind goes to hide.
From the cafés in Paris to sunset in Rome,
Every line takes me somewhere inside.

Chorus
Just give me a ticket to anywhere,
With my sketchbook and time to spare.
I’ll draw each road, every sea, every sky,
Turning pages as the world rolls by.

Verse 2
Six in the morning, I’m back on the street,
Walking past windows that glow in the rain.
Those dummies won’t dress themselves in the store,
So I button them up once again.

Chorus
Just give me a ticket to anywhere,
With my sketchbook and time to spare.
I’ll draw each road, every sea, every sky,
Turning pages as the world rolls by.

Verse 3
They pay me in dollars for colours and lines,
But daylight feels faded and thin.
I’d rather paint patterns across the whole sky,
Than live in the grey I’ve been in.

Chorus
Just give me a ticket to anywhere,
With my sketchbook and time to spare.
I’ll draw each road, every sea, every sky,
Turning pages as the world rolls by.

Outro Tag (Tempted-style groove)
Sketchbook in my hand, oh, I’m gone,
Drawing the world as it rolls on.
Sketchbook in my hand, oh, I’m gone,
Drawing the world as it rolls on.

(repeat & fade, backing vocals echo “I’m gone”)

Sketchbook

"Audience of One" is an intimate and heartfelt acoustic ballad that explores the deep, personal reasons we create. The song unfolds as a series of dedications—to a younger self, a distant father, a supportive partner, children, and cherished friends. It’s a moving reflection on a life lived, finding meaning not in a roaring crowd or a spot on the charts, but in the quiet, profound connections that shape us. Driven by earnest vocals and a foundational acoustic guitar, the song builds from a simple whisper to a powerful anthem for anyone who has ever created art for the love of it, and for the people who make life worth living.   

This song is to myself, with nowhere to go
Lying in bed, hearing lyrics to songs on the radio
They weren’t my words, but they felt like mine
Each one lit a spark inside
And somewhere between the chords I heard
The start of something growing stirred


This is for my audience of one
The child I was, the man I’ve become
No curtain call, no roaring crowd
Just a whisper clear and proud
If I never reach a single chart
Let me still sing from my wounded heart
For an audience of one

Dad, you spoke in careful ways
A nod, a shrug — the space between
No bedtime words, no guiding phrase
Just quiet rooms and in-between
I searched your silence endlessly
And wondered if you were ever proud of me
Now I speak what you never said
And write the words you left instead


This is for my audience of one
The child I was, the man I’ve become
No curtain call, no roaring crowd
Just a whisper clear and proud
If I never reach a single chart
Let me still sing from my wounded heart
For an audience of one


To my first and only love
I still don’t know what you saw in me
But you held the faith I never earned
And lit a life I’d never seen
Through quiet storms and years unplanned
You gave your all, you took my hand
And every chord I never learnt to strum
Is rooted deep in where we’re from


This is for my audience of one
The quiet fight, the not-yet-done
If I only ever reach one soul
Let it be the one I know
Who held the silence, bore the cost
And gave a voice to what was lost
For an audience of one

To my children — I’ve watched you grow
With strength and grace I’ll never know
You learned from us — the good, the flawed
And made it better, love unflawed
You saw us bend, you saw us try
And met it all with open eyes
If I gave light, you are the sun
The proudest thing I’ve ever done

This is for my audience of one
The quiet fight, the not-yet-done
If I only ever reach one soul
Let it be the one I know
Who held the silence, bore the cost
And gave a voice to what was lost
For an audience of one

To my friends — we lived it loud
No need for stages or a crowd
You held my laughter, held my pain
And gave me reasons to remain
We drank the dusk, we chased the dawn
We made mistakes and still moved on
And if I could, I’d press rewind
We truly lived the best of times


This is for my audience of one
The lives I’ve touched, the lies I’ve spun
No medals hung, no victory run
Just love, and loss, and rising sun
If I vanish when the song is done
Let it be known — I lived for love
For truth, for grace, for all above
And if my voice is ever gone
Still I sing — for an audience of one




Audience of One

SATURDAY GHOST's new single "Show Me a Sign" is a protest anthem for the digital age.

Forged in the retro-futurist fires of Gary Numan and Depeche Mode, this track combines industrial textures, pulsing synth bass, and haunting vocals to capture the feeling of being divided and controlled. It's a raw plea for human connection in a world of manufactured anger.

Verse 1
They've stolen your courage.
In a world full of screens now,
You can lose sight of it all,
And the anger they're feeding,
Can make your own reason fall.

chorus
Show me a sign then,
Don't be unhappy,
Can't remember when
We weren't told to be angry.


Verse 2
We weren't told to be angry.
If their world makes you crazy,
And you've taken all you can bear,
Just look past the broadcast,
And you know that I'm still there.

chorus
Show me a sign then,
Don't be unhappy,
Can't remember when
We weren't told to be angry.


Bridge
They build up the walls high,
With headlines of fear and of doubt.
They whisper the lies,
Until we can't hear ourselves shout.
They want us in pieces,
Defined by a flag or a creed,
Forgetting the person,
Ignoring the need.

chorus
Show me a sign then,
Don't be unhappy,
Can't remember when
We weren't told to be angry.

Outro
Show me a sign

Show me a sign

Show me a sign

Show me a sign

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.

Show me a sign

Saturday Ghosts

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