more than today

Have just had a really fun 24hrs in my studio surrounded by all of my favourite microphones and instruments! I hope you enjoy this shiny new track.

How many songs have these worn heart strings still got left?
I awoke this morning off key and quite bereft but well
My pen it is still willing and the paper it receives.
We caught up with the moorhen and we joked about our dreams.

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, dear you’d better stay;
I couldn’t care about you any more than I do now today.

Patience is a virtue, good things come to those who wait;
But who will be the judge of when the hour is getting late?
And anyway there is that other one about fish and the sea!
Pick you cliche, start the clock, compare notes over tea.

Spring it turns to summer, just as night it turns to day.
When in the autumn of our years will we opine away about
How foolish and how young we were, how little we all knew.
I love all my mistakes and well this heart it still beats true.

Actions speak louder than words but what about a song?
A most prolific muse you’ve been, I’ve toiled here late and
Long into the night, trying to make sense of all these things and more;
Like why I feel the way I do when you walk through the door.

My pen it has momentum but the day waits for no man.
There are so many things I know I’ll never understand
I’ll be here in September for the rest I cannot say.
I’m sure of change, death and taxes, sunshine and of rain.

mariam’s cake

I just had a request from a fella in Venezuela for the lyrics to Mariam’s Cake so I thought I might pop them up here for one and all…


Meadowlark, shouldn’t you fly somewhere warmer, my dear?
Let’s go outside holding hands.
Meadowlark, you know this is my favourite time of the year.
Let’s go outside holding hands.

Enter the day, I just arrived so I’ll take my time.
Hour by hour we see that there is no hurry, we take our time.

Meadowlark, I checked in the book and it’s not what it seems.
Let’s go outside holding hands.
Hey what’s up trees? Who gave your orders to drop all those leaves?
Well I you must, I suppose.

Ever since the day we fell up to stand down, there were mice in the aisles dressed in frocks and in gowns.
I won’t tell you its likely, you won’t tell me the news so we stand here in the dirt getting puddles in our shoes
Wondering why.

You call the number and I count the cost but although we’re a good team something has been lost
‘Cause it’s not been the same since the mice moved upstairs,
dreams of Mariam’s cake go down well with sancerre… Wondering why?

the hackney gentrification song

You know this place it means the world to me.
Knock it down build flats knock it down.
The first place I really felt home in London.
Now my life is in bags and my heart’s on my sleeve
And there’s so many memories I’d rather not leave.

When I moved here ‘The Four Aces’ club still stood proud
And ‘The Vortex’ on Church Street was in with the crowd.
Now ‘The George‘ is up next and my dear studio
And Vogue says that Hackney’s the in place to go.

Tesco’s are popping up like unwelcome weeds
And they just put a pound on the price of a pide.
The places we used to shoot pool: they’re all gone.
Whilst the prostitutes, pimps and drug dealers look on.

Louisa Jones on accordion

the ballad of hawkwood

An old traditional tune I learnt from Rachael Dadd called ‘Two Sisters’ set to new words of my own.

Written about the Hawkwood nursery run by my friends at Organiclea.

There is a fine gent christened Ru Litherland
Mulch, sow and then reap
There is a fine gent christened Ru Litherland
And he has green fingers on both of his hands
I’ll be good to the land and the land will be good to me

With the vicar’s fine daughter he dreamed a bold dream
To grow food for his kinsmen as nature decreed.

By the edge the forest they spied a fair patch
And to grow fruit and veg there a plan they did hatch.

The men of the hour dreamed of buildings not plants
A development would far more there profits enhance.

Our forefathers fought for this fair forest land
So now against the law was the businessman’s plan.

After two years had past did the council relent
So now we’ll work the earth as our forefathers meant.

Now if you past by here you may hear a tune:
Mulch, sow and then reap
Now if you past by here you may hear a tune,
The melody is old and the words will be soon.
I’ll be good to the land and the land will be good to me