Saturday, 1 October 2011


I've had a cracking few days; in no particular order: newly found relatives coming miles out of their way to have lunch with us. Calling an old school friend long distance in California. I've acquired a new guitar. The weather, for once, has been something to write home about. And then my best friend and his GLW stopped with us a couple of days - and he played me this:

For Steve. And Riggsby


  1. Nice to read you had a great few days. As for the Jag Mk II, Sweeney villains' wheels of choice.

  2. Gerry...

    There's a Mark II parked on the cobbles
    Of a Chelsea Mews and out of the shadows
    Steps a figure, silver mohair bright
    Into the moonshine out into the night

    And in the darkness one stray moonbeam
    Creeps through the curtains on the unmade bed
    She stares at the ceiling, just an empty feeling
    He starts the Jaguar and drives away

    And no one breathes a word
    'Cause even breathing can be heard
    Right through the silver screen

    They've made inquiries, they'll make it easy
    But she won't answer 'cause she's not really there
    He throws his gloves out the open window
    He lights a cigarette and drives away
    He starts the Jaguar and drives away



    It's a Jim Harley acoustic (with pick-up) in black.