In our age of stolen wonder
Feel the rug swept in your slumber
from  the greywater, we ponder
Where have all the good times gone?

Mind of a violin 
Strings twisted tight and thin
Skin and bone on scaffolding 
Where have all the good times gone?

Swallowed by the swollen sea 
Twisted, broken circuitry 
Saturn, Mars and Mercury
Where have all the good times gone?

From the field to the stage 

Echoes in the empty church 
The Wild Hunt runs through the Birch
Something’s missing from the hearth
Where have all the good times gone?

Send it all to Brigid’s fire,
Where the nineteen never tire 
From the forest to the spire
Where have all the good times gone?

Brides Fire

A total re-write of a song idea from a long time ago, about a time (mostly) even longer ago...

The Road to Rugeley (version 2)

One take demo of a song written after walking the West Highland Way through Storm Floris, August 2025

Caledonian Sky

We are the men who smoke, but we only boys
We are the girls who long to be more than their toys 
And I can see that you are lost at sea, where the child in you meets the child in me 
Oh Rosemary, you’ve got a lot on your mind, but the circle’s no circle but a spiral through time 
And time may only be turning tides, but the shoreline evolves and the ocean is wide 
And the fools play hands with only half of the deck, and they gamble all in with every bet 
And I will be there at the of the day, or over the fields when you are late 
Oh Rosemary, you’ve got a lot on your mind, but the circle’s no circle but a spiral through time

The Spiral

There’s nothing left to say, no one’s listening anyway 
They might listen, to our song, when we are gone

You’ve been such a friend, I never said that too much
Is it too late, now I see, it was never enough?

We all fall down, it’s that kind of town*
You can drink, there is always, an ocean to drown 

All these broken boys, with all our broken toys
There is love, it comes around, then lets you down 

So long Rosemary, you need your fantasy 
Someone to hate, someone to blame, for all this pain

So long poetry, you never needed me
Like I needed you, to rescue me

*adapted from the Pete Wiseman lyric “You’re prepared to fall down, but it’s that kind of town”

The Hermit

Take me drinking tonight, don’t need you forever, but I need you tonight,
Take me drinking tonight

Well they swore there’s a light, if we only try,
and you tried and you tried, but you’re still just the wild kind

There’s no escape you and I, it’s written in the stars, it is traced across the sky, 
as the dirt of London falls into our eyes, they say this town never lies

In this space we stand, I tried to hold you, like water in my hand, water in my hand 
 
When I’m out of my mind, that’s when you’re almost, you’re almost out of my mind, almost out of my mind 

There’s no escape you and I, it’s traced in the eights that crawl across the sky, 
as the dirt of London falls into our eyes, they say this town never cries

Take me drinking tonight….

Anallema (Take Me Drinking Tonight)

The two keyboard melodies in this song are loosely based on the first seven numbers in the Fibonacci sequence (1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13 and 21) and Pi to six decimal places (3.141592)- for little to no reason! 

Rosemary, caught in the headlights, everything is black or white

You're not my fucking army, you will not disarm me

Splitting

Maybe you will break me, but I’ve been broken before
The fires in the heartland, are burning on the Tor
The kind of life we used to lead, it matters not anymore
Been rolling down the same old road, I won’t roll down it anymore 
Jack walks in he pulls the nine of spades, but that card don’t pay no more
No one told Jack that the times had changed, when we walked outside the storm
He said, ‘Man, well you used to be cool, a little unique and defined’
I said, ‘What are you talking about? It was a prison of my own design’ 
He said, ‘Well, when you’re stuck inside, the only rule is don’t betray your tribe’
I said, ‘Well, as far as I can tell, that’s exactly how they got your mind, 
and in the end there’s only family, and those who got your back,
and in the end when the tide rolls out, you never know who’ coming back’ 
So maybe you will break me, but I’ve been broken before 
The fires in the heartland, are burning on the Tor

After the Storm

Many Worlds

I was supposed to write a happy song
I was supposed to abandon my misery
I was supposed to die on a bicycle 
I was supposed to tell you you're beautiful

I was supposed to write and let you know
I was supposed to care when I let you go
I was supposed to drink a little less
I was supposed to wear you like a dress

Not too old, old for your apathy, not too old, old for your apathy 

I was supposed to plant a Ulanadlie
I was supposed to ask you to marry me
I was supposed to learn my farther's lie
I was supposed to fly to Inari 

I was supposed to learn a minor scale (from my mistakes)
I was supposed to be your fairy tale
I was supposed to keep (be) the Rainbow Queen
I was supposed to hold you like a dream

Not too old, old for your apathy, not too old, old for your apathy

She Vent Fox

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