Song: Yolanda

I like the sound
Of the name

I hope this helps
To ease the pain

A Yolanda
Is a beautiful car
Its super fun
Where ever you are

You are Sweden’s Special
You are Sweden’s joy

I love the way you are
I believe you’ve made me cry

This is a traditional rock and roll song. I hope Yolanda doesn’t mind that I wrote it.

Sibelius mp3 of Yolanda

Sibelius PDF of Yolanda

Songs for a cavalier girl

cavalier girl

My mind is confused and I don’t know what to say
Will I ever be able to find a way to convince you
Those times and places gone, I cannot bring them back
How can I make their ghosts appear before you

The memory is slipping from my hands
I watch as their deaths destroy them
So much has been forgotten yet you need to see their ghosts
To tell you of the things dead and rotten

You analyse the body but you forget the soul
The graveyard of the past is now is very cold
New things were growing but as you light the fire
All my hopes are burning from the apse to the spire


What’s happening now?
Is rock and roll just another poor man’s cow
In the boiling pan
From out of the calm the bubbles began

This is the spirit of the age
You work hard
You play hard
When you’re on the last page

What’s coming down?
People just like locusts are covering the town
Here comes the rain
There’s too much water, not enough in the drain

The little girl stands up and took the leaders on
You know who I mean, don’t you
You know what’s going wrong

There’s a rumbling in the land
Something always spoils your plans

You may not have this word in your language
But you start to speak it out maybe with a shout

It’s the spirit of the age
It’s written on the page you can’t erase it

The spirit of the age is getting in a rage
You’re amazed by it

As you walk down the street
There are all the lonely people
You’d ever wish to meet
What’s your plan?
This seems the worst time since time began


It’s consumerable, it’s a selling point
It’s puberty
You can buy it, you can sell it
It’s your nudity
It’s your hair, it’s your heart
It’s your crudity
It’s consumerable, it’s a selling point
It’s puberty

Selling matchstick maidens in ques for funny masks
Falling into potholes where the serpents bask
It came to you like first light like a needle in the arm
There’s now an institution that’s there to keep you calm
Burning your school satchel and drinking all you can
Looking for a straw of truth in the bales of man

It’s a song if you want it

It’s a song if you want it
Just add some chords and start to sing it
You can bash it, you can thrash it
You can even go and crash it

It’s a song if you like it
You just pretend it, do not fight it
You can rock it, you can rap it
You can even try and crack it

It’s a song like any other
In the graveyards of Picardie
It’s a song that needs a lover
It’s like a flower for a bee

It’s a song if you believe it
Just say it for the sky
It’s a song you can retrieve it
It makes you laugh it makes you cry

Who’s your best girl

There was Sara in the woodland
There was Susan on the beach
There was zeta in the churchyard
That none could ever reach

There was Mary in the market
There was Maisie with the curls
But have you ever asked yourself
Who’s your best girl?

There are memories of moonlight
There are sequences of stars
There are moments in the classroom
There are instants in the bars
There was Pamela, there was Paula
How they got you in a swirl
But have you ever asked yourself
Who’s your best girl?

She is funny, she’s amazing
She’s a gold carp in a pond
You should try to catch her
Maybe she’ll respond


I’d give my life for a patch of sun
Coming through the window
Or a shaft from a skylight.
For its warmth in this cold winter;
For a patch of heat on my skin
Giving stark life to where
Now there’s cold miserable fat.
I’d give my life for this sunspot
To melt in its heat
As the snow does in springtime,
I would begin to grow
As this snow does in springtime
But just a little flow
To remind me of the summertime
And the warm touch of a young girl.

There is this open space
That I do not care about
Somehow I’ve gone through life and forgot something.
I have concentrated all my feelings
Into certain ways of life

And now I’ve discovered
I have this big open space
Untouched, left there empty
I can do what I like with it
I can shout into it whenever I like
I can use it to be free in
From the chains
When I want to say something, to dream something
I can love, I can laugh,
I can do all the things I never could before
Anytime, anywhere, to do anything
Because of this empty space I’ve discovered.

I’ve got to sort myself out
To find a way to straighten myself out
Then I will be a better me
I’m beginning to hate myself so much
Because I cannot love or touch the things
The people who mean to me so much
That’s all I want is the properly.

What shall we have for dinner tonight?
What would you like?
I’d like to sit by a warm fire
And eat a plate of conversation
With a handful of happiness
With truth as my knife and fork
And love for ‘afters
But instead it will be –
A television to watch,
A stillness unbearable,
As people think and say nothing but
“What shall we have for dinner tonight

I wrote this  when I was in my teens possibly its the first poem I ever wrote school leaving age but I kept it because it expresses what I was feeling then.