Leather cracks in frozen dusk
Steam from breath, his eyes combust
Dragging hooks through alder bark
Blood leaves trails where nights go dark

He hums like a priest with a drill
The hyacinth blooms after every kill

Hyacinth Lobotomizer walks
Twisting spines and feeding stalks
Unnamed village, nameless dead
Brains leak pink on the riverbed

Rusty scoops in mittened fists
Lobotomy lists, alphabetic twists
Elders nailed to sauna doors
Kids whisper prayers through warped floorboards

“It’s for the flower,” he explains
While scraping marrow from the drains

Hyacinth Lobotomizer feeds
On spleens and twisted local creeds
His leather sack drips cold regret
He waters roots with villagers' sweat

Hockey goals turned autopsy rigs
Torsos posed like pagan pigs
Midnight sun won’t cleanse the stench
Each petal blooms from a severed wench

The village keeps no record books
Just moss, and screams, and lacerated looks

Hyacinth Lobotomizer reigns
Stomping through cerebral plains
No one leaves, no names are spoken
All that grows is split and broken

Blood seeps slow through brittle snow
No roads out, no path to go
The bloom survives, the mind decays
He plants again. Another phase.

Scent of lilac masks the bile
The lobotomy’s done. Now he’ll smile

Hyacinth Lobotomizer grins
As memory withers from within
The village breathes, but not for long
He’s already picked tomorrow’s son

Hyacinth Lobotomizer

A powerful, heartfelt ballad rooted in folk storytelling and punk grit, Beneath It All A Fire Burns There Still channels the quiet rage and resilience of working-class lives. With stripped-back acoustic instrumentation and weathered, emotionally raw vocals, the song captures the ghost of lost industry and the enduring spark of defiance.

Lewis Stevenson blends social realism with poetic flair, evoking comparisons to Billy Bragg and early Springsteen. A lament for a disappearing way of life, and a rallying cry to remember what still smoulders beneath the ashes.

Beneath It All A Fire Burns There Still

This song is about a man who proves that kindness doesn’t need an audience. Moose isn’t flashy he’s steady, simple, and wise in his own way. He feeds the deer behind his barn, makes peace with the squirrels, and lends a hand to anyone who crosses his path human or animal. He won’t brag about it, but the folks around him know: the world’s a little softer where Moose walks.

He hands out corn to the critters, and old sayings to the folks, and somehow, both seem to stick.

Here’s to those who do good without making a show of it.


[Verse 1]
They say a man’s measured by the way he lends a hand,
By the quiet things he does when there ain’t no one to stand.
There’s a big fella ‘round here, folks just call him Moose,
Drives a shiny Tundra, keeps it spotless and spruce.

Out past his  barn, where the woods start to grow,
The deer wander out, movin' quiet and slow.
He lays out corn, then he leans with style,
Watchin' ‘em feed with a soft, easy smile.

[Verse 2]
By the porch there’s bird feeders, where the songbirds land,
Moose keeps it stocked, says, “They brighten the land.”
But the squirrels kept stealin’, so he hatched up a plan,
Bought squirrel-proof feeders, but still leaves ‘em corn by hand.

He laughs watchin’ ‘em scramble, says, “Let ‘em have their fun,”
“There’s plenty to share when the day is done.”
Leanin’ back with his old water jug in the shade,
That simple kind of joy, it just never fades.

[Verse 3]
There’s an old man in town, walks his dog every day,
Hunched over and quiet, just driftin’ his way.
But Moose knows his story, so he’ll pull up slow,
Says, “Hop on in, friend, where you need to go?”

Drives him to McDonald's, says, “Ice cream’s on me,”
Watches that old man share with his dog happily.
Before they part ways, Moose slips him some cash,
Says, “Take care of that pup, and yourself, too, while it lasts.”

[Chorus]
That’s just Moose, steady and true,
He’s got a story for everyone, and his heart’s just as true.
Feeds the deer, helps a stranger, keeps the squirrels in line,
Knows life ain’t perfect, but he likes it just fine.
Hands out the corn to the critters outside,
And hands out old sayings to the folks passin' by.

[Outro]
I'm a grown ass man… I do what I want.”
(pause)
“And remember, just ‘cause you blow out my candles… It don’t make yours any brighter.”

That’s Just Moose

Demo version — just sharing the idea as it first came together. Some words and sounds might change later.

If this song resonates with you, don’t forget to hit like, share it with someone who needs to hear it, and drop your thoughts in the comments.

#indie #singersongwriter #pop #demo #newmusic #beautifulstranger #feedbackwelcome

Beautiful Stranger

je mes les voiles

A Billion Points of Light

Free Spirit

leave me alone

I won't give up...

Little Light

Wild Birds

I've been writing songs since 1993 and since then I've spent short spells in different bands. None of them worked and I couldn't work out why. 

It took me until 2025 to work it out. 

I'm a songwriter first and foremost, I've never been a front man, so I don't think the band formula ever really worked for me.  I also never really had that one "sound" which has become more obvious as the last three decades have come and gone.

The thing is, I don't think I ever knew what sound I wanted, I just enjoyed writing and creating something from nothing.

So, I think "Sons Of Regret" is fluid.  It's what it needs to be when it needs to be it. 

it's genreless.

Hopefully, there is something for most people here.

Thanks for listening.

A Billion Points of Light

Sons of Regret