Midnight Hellcat

I met her at the Replay Lounge
Attracted by a growling sound
Blue-back hair and silver rings
I wondered what the morning brings

Cos she's the midnight hellcat
Peering through the gloom with perspex eyes
Swishy when she wants to be
Darkness is her cloak and her disguise

She cracked a smile, she broke my spine
Then left me in the firing line
Mind and body scream in pain
When can we do that again?

Cos she's the midnight hellcat
Creeping up the streets and down the lanes
She was my favorite birthday present
Gift-wrapped in leather and chains

She's the midnight hellcat
Peering through the gloom with perspex eyes
Swishy when she wants to be
Darkness is her cloak and her disguise

Amy Winehouse

About three years ago I wrote a song about Amy Winehouse that contrasted her to Jane Austen. I'm not sure why since I never really listened to her, although a woman I care about did. And I didn't know that she lived in Camden Town...

You sing the blues

You're the face that's in the news

Ellen Mayhem in Gucci shoes

Everywhere I turn the dial

Lipstick-laden alligator smile

You were amazing

But I didn't want to know

Friends call me crazy but you seemed so

Very peculiar

The Gothic World

Sails of England are unfurled

Miss Jane Fox your hair is curled

In Mansfield Park you lay your head

Sense and sensibility are dead

You were amazing

But I didn't want to know

Friends call me crazy but you seemed so

Very peculiar

Remember the first time I read you

Remember the first time I heard you

Remember feeling sure that

I would never fall in love

No I would never fall in love again

In Camden Town

Coach and four or coke and crown

Mini-skirt or wedding gown

Prejudice can't bruise your pride

Sisyphus on ice you're gonna slide

You were amazing

But I didn't want to know

Friends call me crazy but you seemed so

Very peculiar

One two three four

Spending my time
Staring at clouds
Wondering why
Your emotions wear a shroud

Follow the line
Shrouds are the things
Usually used
For keeping warm dead human beings

I never claimed to be
A flatterer
I never blamed you for
Your swinging moods
Your many flaws
Your frozen days
One two three four


Spending my time
Washing my paws
Wondering why
Your heart's kept behind closed doors

Follow the line
Doors are the things
Usually used
For keeping out live human beings

I never claimed to love
Your character
I never blamed you for
My open wounds
My weeping sores
My broken limbs
One two three four


I never claimed to be
A janitor
I never blamed you for
Your swinging moods
Your many flaws
Your frozen days
Famine and wars
My open wounds
My weeping sores
My broken limbs
One two three four

Her Name Is Sunday

Fly down into the big town
Shy stare, she's gonna be my friend
She's wearing my number

She says her name is Sunday
I say “I don't have anything planned”
She's wearing number 9

It's not a chase, just a question of time
And her face is my future


My name written in rainbows
Her game, the rules are anything goes
She's making me wonder

I say “let's fly with the weather”
Skies grey, so we smash holes in the clouds
Sunday says she's fine

As her eyes flash number 9
And her face is my future

Dream Life

Dream life not enough?
Sometimes it's way too much
To keep in mind
The people I find

A witch and a wizard out buying a van
Copper piping in the mouth of a man
Britas flying but the kite's in the sand

And the sump pump does what it can
And the wishing well goes down down down down down

In the darkest night
The visions are bright
When the shadows glare
The beauty is there

If you're the dreamer then who's in the dream
You know deep down that it's just what it seems
A world that's waiting for your waking esteem

And the director's part of the scene
Blink if you know what I mean

It Wasn't Like That

The lamb of God is looking kind of sheepish
Looking peeved
He's not believed
There's nothing to be seen

My sense of purpose is wearing kind of thin
Close the blinds
Paint a mandala on a screen
To project the world within

My sainted aunt oh! She told fortunes
And was frightened of the fairies
With pins and needles and a glass of gin
Made the little people scream

And when the skeptics called her charlatan and fake
She'd break their hearts
And steal their candy
Then destroy their minds and dreams

It wasn't like that
The cat in the hat was there
And took in everything
In 1812
And 1943

A dying empire spits at all it sees
Getting mean
Tweedledum and Tweedledee
Now they're coming after me

Put on my hat oh! Now I have to leave
Polish my rings
Crawl in my time machine
There's nothing to be seen