(Song title from Judy Garland’s catalogue,
by George & Ira Gershwin)

I wanted to hold you the moment we met,
Your eyes like deep pools of emotions I’ll never forget,
Your lips held a smile by Da Vinci himself,
You exuded the sparkle of a mischievous elf,
I wanted to mould to embraceable you,
And give you a love that would see you through,
And now here we are embracing in a magical grip,
I feel warm and safe with you on this trip.

(Song title from Madeleine Payroux’s catalogue,
by Peyroux, Harris & Klein)

I know I should be famous,
I know I need to take the plunge,
To leap from the edge,
To ride the wind wherever it leads,
To write my stories, sing my songs,
Act the roles, be where I belong,
But I get scared by own doubts,
I tell myself to take the bull by the horns,
And enjoy my fame in all its forms,
Mama says, “Do something with your life”,
Papa says, “Risk the hurt and the strife”,
I say, “Don’t wait too long”,
But still I wait like an unlit candle,
An unturned page,
A roaring fire waiting to rage.

(Song title taken from Jane Monheit’s catalogue,
by Dietz and Schwartz)

As they lay in bed,
Back to back,
Asleep with folded arms,
They wonder how it came to pass,
That lovers embrace changed to isolated solace,
How it ever became a reality to miss the heart,
The hearts that used to beat together,
In tune to the dance they danced at night,
When the lights were down,
And the only sound heard in town,
Was of blissful love making,
Against the sky; bleak, black and stark,
As they were dancing in the dark.

(Song title from Blind Boy Fuller’s catalogue, by Allen)

My mind is like a tree,
A Weeping Willow with many leaves,
Each one can turn,
Each one can rust,
Each one can vanish and turn to dust,
Each leaf is like a thought,
Each thought has a life,
Each life has dream,
But like this Willow I weep into a muddy stream.

(Song title from Sonny Terry & Bownie McGhee’s catalogue, by Sissle, Battle, Ram and Merdith)

Watch out guys,
I’m coming now,
I’m ready for you,
I’m hungry now.

Watch out,
Watch out,
The pride march is all about,
Watch out,
Watch out.

Watch out guys,
I’m heading down,
I’m out on the prowl,
I’m coming down.

Watch out,
Watch out,
The pride march is all about,
Watch out,
Watch out.

(Song title from Blind Willie McTell’s catalogue, by McTell)

On and on and on I walk,
Down roads which have no end,
I hope to arrive at my home,
Across the street, round the bend,
But on and on and on I go,
Until my hope’s depleted,
Suffering from the travelin’ blues,
I lay my head down; defeated.

(Song title from Blind Willie McTell’s catalogue, by McTell)

A soldier proudly marches,
Off to war he goes,
Into a terrible struggle,
Facing agonising blows,
His head oozing on the ground,
His eyes water running out,
His friends are dead around him,
No sanctuary or aid about,
He gives up the fight but in his dreams,
He imagines the women left behind,
His mother, his lover, his daughter,
Three women blues he finds,
He prays for them with his last breath,
And attains peace with his unnecessary death.

(Song title from B.B. King’s catalogue, by King and Taub)

We argued,
I left and ran for cover,
Hours
Days passed,
Weeks,
Months passed,
Years,
I had vanished I thought,
You found my hideout,
You sent a note,
This is what you wrote,
“I love you, my angel, I love you,
Please hurry home”.

(Song title from Lightnin’ Hopkins’ catalogue, by Whittaker)

He stalks the parks; staring; leering,
Smiling contented,
Hiding behind his façade of walking his dog,
He reveals his true darkness,
As around the roundabout he ambles and strolls,
Looking at the children in their innocent poses,
We crouches by a boy alone in the shadows,
A boy who is happy to sit down and doodle,
He tells this stalker “let me play with your poodle”,
The menace moves in.

(Song title from Blind Blake’s catalogue, composer unknown)

At the end of a bar a man sits alone,
Strumming his tune and singing his song,
No one else seems to notice or hear him.
“Can’t help but wonder where things went wrong”,
He repeats the same line over and over,
And repents with his words for his sickening crimes,
But no one listens or cares for a man,
Who battles his conscience to melancholic guitar chimes.

(Song title from Howlin’ Wolf’s catalogue, by James B. Oden)

I turn and notice him; zoom,
Standing across the room,
A look of passion upon his face,
I walk to him and we embrace,
I feel his body heat and lust starts to grow,
Tonight is the night for goin’ down slow.

I tear at his clothing; rip,
Gently pull down his zip,
Relaxed I stand naked before him,
I trace my tongue from limb to limb,
He falls to his knees to place his final blow,
Tonight is the night for goin’ down slow.

(Song title from Bukka White’s catalogue, by B. White)

I saw a young girl standing on the bridge,
Golden hair,
Rosy lips and frightened eyes,
Water runs from deep inside,
She stares across the Thames as it flows fast and rough,
She’s fixin’ to die; she’s had enough.

(Song title from Howlin’ Wolf’s catalogue, by Willie Dixon)

Red sky,
Blood red with dark clouds billowing out on high,
A shadowy troupe approach,
Closer and closer they begin to encroach,
Four stallions and their riders strong,
The devil on their shoulder whispering evil wrongs,
The fear in my eyes turns to tears on my cheek,
My legs crack and I forget how to speak,
I stumble and stagger and try to hide,
This is what imagined on the day that I died.

(Song title from Skip James’ catalogue, by Skip James)

The saloon doors swing open,
And a cowboy staggers in,
He swaggers to the bar,
Orders drink after drink,
I stare amazed as I watch the drinks he sinks,
I’ve seen this John Wayne type before,
With Clint behind the eyes,
A need for speed,
To search, to be,
He lives his life on a drunken spree,
Praying it won’t catch up with him,
Like a torch wielding Indian storming his saloon,
Cowboy strong and runs the town,
Cowboy hurt,
Cowboy down.

(Song title from Lead Belly’s catalogue, by Ledbetter)

Poor black Betty is scared of walking alone,
The boys throw stones,
They use their words to break her bones,
Poor black Betty is still scared in twenty-ten,
Attacked again,
Surrounded by bad, racist men,
Poor black Betty is lowered into the ground,
No life, no sound,
Maybe now some peace can be found.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson)

Looking in the mirror,
Reflected,
An image of hurt,
Sadness,
Blood and dirt,
Who is it?
My God…
…
…
…It’s me.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson, T. Riley, Gil Cang, J. Quay and G. Williams)

When I die early,
Or get caught out,
When the walls collapse,
Or crush my soul,
Whatever happens,
Know I love you,
Whatever happens,
Know I’m sorry.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Lippman and Dee)

Baby, I do love you,
I want you forever,
But you’re too young right now,
I’m too young somehow,
We both want fun,
We’ve just begun to grow.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson, Rodney Jenkins, Fred Jerkins III and LaShawn Daniels)

I’m feeling threatened,
By my actions and my mind,
It’s a scary thought,
Not knowing what you’ll find.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by R. Temperton)

Eyes like deep pools of summer,
Lips the colour of red roses,
Skin like porcelain perfection,
Body that dreams are made on,
She’s the lady in my life,
Fantasy,
Safety from pain and strife.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson)

Left behind *******,
It drove me insane,
Sent electricity to my brain,
Gave up ******,
Left me looking thin,
Couldn’t remember where I had been,
Speed demon, that’s me,
Helps me become free,
Where I become what I want to be.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson, Teddy Riley and A. Davidson)

Staring at her from the window,
Daily eye-contact leads to smiles,
I offer a coffee,
She graciously accepts,
We kiss and touch,
But then it ends,
She looks riled,
Still…
…she drives me wild.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by James Harris III, Terry Lewis, Michael Jackson and Janet Jackson)

Talking at me,
Spinning,
In a whirl,
Stop the pressure,
Release this pressure,
To feel some pleasure,
Scream.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Rod Temperton)

Late at night I lay him down,
Draw his lips to my neck,
*** away the tears and frowns,
I stroke and rock with you,
Take you in and slowly drown,
Soft and hard, rough and slow.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Thom Bell and Linda Creed)

I have felt lonely and scared,
And done things they wouldn’t dare,
I have felt upset and blue,
And been so happy, it’s true,
And all because I have found,
People make the world go ‘round.

The pine tree scent fills the room,
And the candle smoke softens the mood,
As the turkey is cooking you can taste by its smell,
Christmas is here; it’s easy to tell,
The potatoes are roasting and smelling so nice,
The mulled wine is full of flavour and spice,
The smell of the cold and thunder and rain,
And the smell of snow as it covers the plain,
The scent of the warmth from family and friends,
It’s nice to enjoy Christmas again.

Shiny paper and masses of ribbons,
Perfectly wrapped and lovingly given,
A sign of how much we love each other,
Mother and Father and Sister and Brother,
A gesture of kindness and of festive cheer,
A special occasion that comes but once a year.

I stood staring at that giant tree,
Stretching for miles above me,
My eyes wandered high,
Not a decoration passed me by,
But my eyes were drawn to the star on top,
Against the sky where my focus stopped,
I stared at the star and thought of the wise men,
And of their journey to the manger again,
The meaning of Christmas in one little symbol,
The Christmas Tree: so grand yet so simple.

On a dark Christmas night,
In a house with a fire,
A little girl sleeps in her bed,
And wonders what might transpire,
In the distance she hears,
The sound of the bells coming near,
She stirs and turns for the window,
To make it easier to hear,
“It’s Father Christmas” she shouts, “He’s on his way”
“I can see him approach on his magnificent sleigh.”

Stuffed full of toys and ribbons,
Tinsel and baubles,
Santa and his reindeer,
Deliver to all,
Presents for children,
For their mums and their dads,
For Aunts and Uncles,
Nans and Granddads,
There’s perfume and clothing,
Chocolate and sweets,
Santa delivers the nicest of treats.

Made from snow,
He stands so tall,
With eyes of coal,
In weather so cruel,
He still smiles his smile,
Wearing his scarf and hat,
Before the sun arrives to melt him away,
Until he comes back next Christmas Day.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by R. Kelly)

My heart is still recovering,
I’m still gathering the fragments,
And gluing them with passing time,
So to give you one more chance,
Would be a certain suicide,
I couldn’t recover twice,
My life is too high a-price.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Armand & S. Brown)

One day in your life you’ll understand,
You’ll know why I railed, rowed and raged,
You’ll see that my temper got out of hand.

One day in your life you’ll take me back,
You’ll open the door that was slammed,
You’ll begin to miss the love that you lack.

Why didn’t he stay?
I needed to feel his embrace,
In a home; a safe place,
But he left with his friends,
The subtle hint of hurt descends,
Just to hold him in my arms,
To feel happy and safe from harm,
Why didn’t he stay?

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson)

Numb the pain,
Take the feeling away,
I can’t suffer anymore,
Give me morphine.

Shut it out,
Take the pain and hurt down,
I can’t take it anymore,
Give me morphine.

Still my heart,
Cool the red hot fires,
Let me not breathe anymore,
Give me morphine.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson)

Those voices inside my mind still talk,
They say the things I try not to believe,
But it’s harder to fight them off,
I no longer have the power,
The bottle, the needle, the powder,
So they never leave me alone,
Invade my safety,
And chill me - thin to the bone.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson and Teddy Riley)

Spent too long there,
Felt trapped,
Busted out and broke free,
Became me,
Who I wanted to be,
Couldn’t stay in the closet,
Making further little deposits,
Into the lie factory.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Steve Porcaro and John Bettis)

They say some of the things I do are bad,
Evil, vile and cruel,
It’s just my way,
My life to live my way,
It’s only natural for me,
My human nature,
My truth.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Jackson and Bottrell)

I need you to give in to me sometimes,
I need to win the day from time to time,
I can’t always be wrong,
It’s the same old argument,
Same old song.

I need you to give in to me sometimes,
I need to win the day from time to time,
I can’t always pretend,
I just can’t see this one through,
Just can’t mend.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by McCartney)

My girlfriend looks at me with love,
I smile with joy and fear,
I don’t know what to expect,
As she cries her singular perfect tear.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by Michael Jackson and Teddy Riley)

I sometimes wonder in this month of Halloween,
About the people I have lost,
About the reasons for my worries,
And the dearest price to me they’ve cost,
I sometimes wonder if those friends are standing by,
As ghosts or guardian angels,
Resting on my shoulder night and day,
And wonder if we’ll meet when I end it all.

(Song title from Michael Jacksons’ catalogue, by R. Kelly)

I feel them,
Hard like nails, pressing from behind,
I won’t let them out in front of you,
I run,
I run,
I run to the bedroom,
Close the door of solid wood,
And cry.

(Song title from The Beatles’ catalogue, by Lennon/McCartney)

Don’t close that door on us,
Give us half a chance,
We can work it out I’m sure,
Don’t play our final song,
Don’t make this our last dance.

Don’t shut me out your heart,
Let me hear it beat,
We can work it out I know,
Don’t leave me in the cold,
Don’t banish all our heat.

(Song title from The Beatles’ catalogue, by Lennon/McCartney)

Tomorrow never knows the sun,
For tomorrow never arrives,
Like watching the smoking gun,
When you are the one who’s died.

Tomorrow never knows the breeze,
For tomorrow never appears,
Like climbing the tallest trees,
When you’re older than your years.

(Song title from The Beatles’ catalogue, by Lennon/McCartney)

Miles I have struggled,
Trudged down the manacled streets,
A lifetime spent in misery,
Surrounded in sin and tragedy,
The long and winding road I walk,
Is diseased with pain and hurt,
I bury my heart and evil soul,
To save them from death and wicked sights,
Scarred by rumours; afeard of the light.

(Song title from The Beatles’ catalogue, by Harrison)

Something in your touch comforts me,
Like a baby upon mothers knee,
I am secure and sense no fragility,
Somehow I trust you implicitly.

Something in your kiss just astounds,
Like a bird calling his sunrise sounds,
I am amazed by the tenderness I’ve found,
Somehow your lips kiss me so profound.

(Song title from The Beatles’ catalogue, by Lennon/McCartney)

Stop screaming at me!
It’s not my fault,
Let it be.

Stop stabbing my back!
I don’t need it,
Let it be.

Stop scaring my eyes!
Don’t cry no more,
Let it be!

(Song title from The Beatles’ catalogue, by Lennon/McCartney)

In isolation,
In the corner on my own,
Where night is over and day is gone,
I feel fine,
I feel fine because I know…
…that if I can dream…
….nothing will seem…
….as bad as the visions that I stare upon,
Where night is over and day is gone.

(Song title from The Beatles’ catalogue, by Lennon/McCartney)

I shut myself inside the darkness,
In the blackness of my mind,
I scream aloud and call her name,
I shout for help yet feel the same.

I close my eyes to the mirrored-self,
An image of someone hurt,
I grip to the edge of my life,
I need help to escape this strife.