A song of warning to sailors who may meet a pretty young woman and think they can take advantage of her.

A ghostly song of bewitchment...

A song about deportation from Britain to Australia for minor crimes such as poaching.

A song about old abandoned stone farm houses on British moors.

All about, John Lynn, my 2x great grandfather who was a coachman to the 10th Earl of Strathmore.

Four seasons of love

My earliest memory is of being on a train at night; it's just darkness, maybe a tunnel, with lights flashing by. When I was 3, my grandmother brought me from Chicago to my mother in New York. It's probably a memory of that. About 10 years ago…

In December 1948, a man and his wife were walking on Somerton Beach, near Adelaide, Australia. There was a man sitting there; they thought he might be drunk. Another couple thought he was asleep. The next morning it was discovered that he was…

I was thinking about him earlier today, and then this came out of me, with its simple majesty, its quiet horror. I wonder what title they gave him in Hell.

Jesse's spirit animal is the sloth. On the other hand, he's extraordinarily greedy. Top up the food and he's in there first. Freshen up the water, and he's on the scene. It's so bad that we have to lock him up at wet food time or he'll go from…

Two different small-size guitars; one a "proper" electric with microtonal frets in the top half of the fingerboard, the other a toy but with metal strings tuned to the same scale as an egg slicer. Two different recordings of each, all through…

Juan is a very strange cat. Or a very normal chupacabra. He has 28 toes, and tends to get caught on things. Otherwise he's astonishingly graceful, and an outstanding jumper. And he's quiet, and he's immaculate. He's over 15 years old, and…

I don't know how. I'd thought I'd been on only one date in my life, but on further reflection realized that if I really stretched the definition, I've been on nine. Over the last 46 years. Not a lot of practice. Horrible nighttime date, arranged…

Yeah, and I here I am giving a shit again. I mean, I've made it this far. 62! And now I want it to be over with again, like I did when I was 9 and 16 and 28 and 33 and 43 and 55? At least I'm consistent.

Things got a little weird. I came to the conclusion that in order to solve the problem of my heart, it would be best to not want to have one. A heart, that is.

I am one messed up 62-year-old man-child.

I'm having problems with my brain. Things came to a head today in that I was not able to take a simple action which might have brought a positive change to my life. It was really a heart problem, but, you know, your heart is all in your head.