The Rhythm Is Below Me,

Whenever We Defend Democracy We Find Oil.

Whistling Tunes We're Kissing Baboons In The Jungle.

Those Of Us Who Have The Eyes And Ears Of The Media Have A Responsibility To Amplify The Voices Of The Voiceless.

I Try When I'm Writing To Fill My Head And My Ears With All Sorts Of Stuff And Then Let It Settle And Filter Through. At A Certain Point It Seems Like Fruitless Activity Because You're Taking A Lot Of Time And Not Seeming To Get Anything. And Then, Slowly, You Realize You've Actually Digested Elements And That Your Thinking Is Being Freed Up And The Way You Build Up Compositions Is Changed As A Result Of What You've Been Listening To.

Climbing Up On Solsbury Hill I Could See The City Light Wind Was Blowing, Time Stood Still Eagle Flew Out Of The Night He Was Something To Observe Came In Close, I Heard A Voice Standing Stretching Every Nerve I Had To Listen, Had No Choice