They're dealing in the back alley
So spoilt for choice it beggars belief

My daughter, yards away asleep
I hope I can give you what you need

Dealing

Some days undone from the salt and earth,
Nonsense I hear you say,
A stitch in time

How's our Petey? 
Must be lovely having him again?
Keeps hitting home now and then for me

See you for Countdown,
We'll drop his grandad round on our way in

Here's to lost boys,
Here's to downing tools in the Endwood,
Just as we always would,
But this one's on me,
My jar tipped to sweet Mary,
Some days undone

Some Days Undone

I woke up today, the weight off my shoulders
Woke up today, unburdened by time
Safe in the arms of my partner and daughter
Just easy and alive

It's not every day, we can breeze through the motions
Not every day, but once in a while
You let the world go and it's happy to hold you
Just easy and alive

Easy

Soundtrack, composed by Stuart Hancock, for the new short film A FRIEND OF DOROTHY, written and directed by Lee Knight, starring Miriam Margolyes, Stephen Fry and Alistair Nwachukwu.

'A Friend of Dorothy' explores themes of old age, intergenerational friendship, and LGBTQ+ issues. It tells is a new adventure/drama film that shines a light on the refugee situation in Europe. It tells the story of an elderly woman, Dorothy (Margolyes), whose quiet life is disrupted when a teenage boy's football lands in her garden. The soundtrack is a sensitive chamber score that gently supports the film's emotional core.

Musicians:
Gabi Opacka-Boccadoro - VIolin
Rachel Robson - Viola
Danny Keane - Cello
Stuart Hancock - Piano

6 More than a Hobby

M01 Alien Planet

Up went the ball from the hurley-peaked hill brow 
- I know what a hurley is now - 
Slow motion in my Grandad’s wing mirror, up and out of view, 
I whip-pan to the sunroof and it’s double-speed on the way down. 

I love at the football when, naivety waived, 
me and half the lower-upper tier clutch skyward, 
rising and falling to the ball’s arc as it’s lumped clear, umpteen rows away. 
And we’re all thinking
        He meant that for me, bless him.

Conversely this sliotar, that’s what the ball’s called now,
now that it’s coming down, 
has me cowering.

Grandad and his DeLorean-doored Honda. 
It’s like Back To The Future but we’re in Ballycastle.
Me and a hailstone of unknown culture and unspent years, 
some fifteen or so, some half a lifetime ago.

Granny wants to cut my hair not long before I’m balding, but who’s to know. 
I’m scared but still steal her rollies. She swears the river’s Guinness. 
My big brother can’t get served. 

And I wonder if that sliotar ever came down, 
or another wonder-stricken stranger felt the sound
I must have missed, as it nearly-missed. And Grandad didn’t flinch.

6 More than a Hobby

Stuart Hancock, composer