Apologies for a short absence

A very brief note today to apologise for the lack of any notes of late. My better ‘arf and I were in the wonderful city of Florence.

I have one thing to complain about and some really nice things from Florence to note… which I’ll do shortly.

It’s just a house not a home

A very dear friend introduced this to me a little while ago. It suited where she was in her life at time; lonely in a giant metropolis.

It’s become very dear to me to. I can’t really tell you why to be honest. There’s an implied narrative in the lyrics that’s really up to the individual listener to fill in.

I thought I’d share it here in any case…

Now
I’m wakin’ at the crack of dawn
to send a little money home
from here to the moon
is risin’ like a discotheque
and now my bags are down and packed for traveling

Lookin’ at happiness
keepin’ my flavor fresh
nobody knows I guess
how far I’ll go, I know
so I’m leavin’ at Six O’ Clock
meet in a parkin’ lot
Harriet Hendershot
sunglasses on, she waits by this

Glass and concrete and stone
It is just a house, not a home.

Skin, that covers me from head to toe
except a couple tiny holes and openings
Where, the city’s blowin’ in and out
this is what it’s all about, delightfully

Everything’s possible
when you’re an animal
not inconceivable
How things can change, I know

So I’m puttin’ on aftershave
nothin’ is out of place
gonna be on my way
Try to pretend, it’s not only

Glass and concrete and stone
That it’s just, not a home.
And its glass and concrete and stone

It is just a house, not a home
And my head is fifty feet high
Let my body and soul be my guide