TICK TOCK ROCK

Cast wise opinion, as to who holds dominion,    or die a minion.  My father said that Gandhi had saved his life through his wisdom and peace , shame we don't see more leaders with this capability of Khama .

The Belles Angels a song I wrote for a bunch of hell raising Harrogate girls all leather and lace they murdered every midnight hour slaking an slaughtering sobriety , to all those super sexy Ladies college girls I say God bless you all

A song I wrote for a beautiful friend of mine who without trying casts her long shadows of perfection over us we call her Angel Face .

A song I wrote for the king of rock and roll it's done in a crooning style of the fifties. He was born into extreme poverty raised in a shotgun shack but managed not only to break out of but also to attack the musical apartheid of America he was one of the first to start singing the black man's blues , he went from busking as a bum on Beale Street to having the world worshipping at his feet an all...

A comprehensive piece discusses the mercenaries known as the "Dogs of War" who engage in conflict for financial gain across the globe. Africa has long struggled with the presence of such militants, and even today, they continue to sow chaos worldwide, including in regions like Israel, Palestine, Russia, and Ukraine. These "Dogs of War" are hired by numerous superpowers, and their growing numbers h...

The green-eyed monster of sin, that schadenfreude which we keep hidden away so deep within, its usually only seen in children as they exert their will to win ; the lowly leftover instinct of our anthropic ascension. However, this terrible traite can also be witnessed later in our lives when males begin to assert and dominate as the sexual stage arrives and our species needs to procreate .

A song written for Shirley Bassy or the Birley Chassis as she was known when she sang at the Batley variety club when my mother and father went to see her.

From Bonaparte to Lionheart from the mayflower to the superpower all Nations have produce refugees at one time or another we're all to blame for this ever increasing burden of shame .

Old Colonials talk of empire its quite shocking how they used to think of human beings as nothing more than chattels not just the natives but also the white workers and soldiers such as my old father now 95 years of age he told me during his time in India just after the second world War whilst protecting the British Raj who looked upon him also as their SLAVE OF EMPIRE .

From Bonaparte to Lionheart from the mayflower to the superpower all Nations have produce refugees at one time or another We're all to blame for this ever increasing burden of shame.

A birthday poem for NENO it's called Black Rod because for the first time in Britain's thousand year parliamentary history the position is now held by a women , this spiritual and temporal appointment of power is long overdue for a changing of the guard . The willow may look soft an gentle but inside lies her heart of oak

A song written for a friend who has decided to live on just cadbury's caramel for nine days.

A short little ditty written for a friend who's living on just Cadburys caramel each day, it had to short under a certain time to fit into the length of an advertisement.

She read mien kampt and the marquis de sade  a sexual psychopath who fell asleep leather clad.  A blood letting Banshee of tormenting and torture That gave no clemency or quarter ; She had an iQ of above one hundred and twenty two a dipsomaniac who'd tremble you to with DTS and night sweat you to a cold freeze. out my latest episode!

A little song about setting off on a world tour in the late seventies, it was nothing like today there were no mobile phones or multimedia just the odd phone box for calls . Your thumb and forefinger were used for hitchhiking thousands of miles around the globe taking years and years almost a decade to the point where many of us became wonderless but we did become quite skilled in the art of conve...

A short song I wrote for a friend of mine who's going on a diet of just Curly Wurlys for ten days good luck to him

This is a song i wrote about the catastrophic creations cause through having too much cosmetic surgery leaving so many a patient in the perpetual state of a reconstructive purgatory the surgeons are called the picasso's of the plastique. out my latest episode!

If you ever fall under the spell of a Jezabel then you will be lucky if you leave with your life every thing else will be ransacked and broken into pieces by these A morel Doomsday machines who don't even realise what they're doing.

A short song I wrote whilst trapped in rush hour on the M25 its certainly a highway to hell and your brain boils in its crab faced shell at night it turns into a Cannon Ball Run a hundred and seventeen miles of Mad Max fun with motor cycles screaming past like something out of the movie Top Gun .

a short song I wrote a couple of days ago whilst on a train back from London for a friend who's on a malteser diet.

A song I wrote in the old music hall tradition of two verse chorus which is similar to the church stanza I've also sang it in the barber shop style of my father who born in 1925 still bursts into song similar to a Mississippi boat minstrel . 

A song about an artist girlfriend and her crazy cultural crew, their works of art or gestation periods of genius seem to carry similar traits and time scales to those of real pregnancies . 

As you get older looking for love is similar to rummaging through a scrap yard come jumble sale you sift an shake through the worn torn fragile and fail usually to no avail things are stretched out of shape almost befitting the proverbial grey whale instead of the once sleek male or female then suddenly there it is the right one for you the little bunny rabbits bob tail an together you dovetail pe...

A song I wrote for a crazy young women who's beauty could cause Aphrodite to scream a red rage of jealously, its fairly obvious to see her maker man was completely OCD and once you're under her spell you just can't break free .

Paint me warts and all said Olivier Cromwell who had the skin of an old toad after his death he was hung at Tyburn then decapitated his head was put on a pole outside Westminster palace the parliament he'd spilt so much blood to put in place .