A true story. Predictably, the photo forms the album art for this record. I've never felt incredibly close to my Dad, but it's not like he didn't try.

This is the first song I wrote about my Dad. I wrote it when I realised I was the same age he was when I was born. I reflect on what he had when he was my age, and all that he has lost.

A song about wintertide depression and longing for spring.

Another ancient recording for posterity. Still learning how to play guitar, and at this point I think I knew two chords. The lyrics were not intended to be offensive at the time, so don't cancel me.

Something new.... Grey Old paint faded Dilapidated Barely hanging on Lay Old butterfly Broken and dry Alone and withdrawn Chill creeps in Darkness tries to take hold The cold is peace And the dark beautiful Take One last…

Something new.... Grey Old paint faded Dilapidated Barely hanging on Lay Old butterfly Broken and dry Alone and withdrawn Chill creeps in Darkness tries to take hold The cold is peace And the dark beautiful Take One last…

This is a rare happy song. It was first recorded 15 years ago, but the mix had the vocals way too low. I thought of it again yesterday after we had such a fine day enjoying the sun. This is the second attempt at getting through the whole song…

So I was locked in the broom-cupboard, checking out some old songs that need recording. I'd just picked one and then suddenly this thing came out of nowehere. It started with one of those guitarist doodles that other musicians love so much…