I like the fire...

Wrote a few lyrics over some coffee in the 12 Bar Club this morning. Strong coffee.

One is called: Charge Of The Sloane Rangers

Another is called: To The Blues.

And the best one is: I like The Fire.

I like the fire,
I like to burn,
I like the fire,
the fire makes me turn.

I feel wired,
But I have to yearn,
I feel wired,
so wired that I burn.

I like the fire,
I want to burn,
caught by the flame,
and hooked on the game.

Just a few stanzas. The last one is the chorus. Not my best stuff. Not by a long way. But I like writing about fire and ice as metaphors for drive, the need to create, to express, to catch fire like a beacon until others see the flame.

That kind of thing.

Right! I have to go. Just one more thing. It went through my head when I was in the Twelve Bar. When Joe Strummer died, my grandfather (the Masonic Lord no-less) had just arrived for Christmas. He said that no-one would care that this fellow was dead. I can't remember if I'd cried...but I felt a big hole inside. Strummer and The Clash were/are big heroes of mine...and he'd always seemed like an absolutely top man. Strange how I can see the value in my 89 year old Grandfather's heroes, that I can empathise with him but that the man writes off Joe.

I shouldn't be so harsh on him. It was just a thought.

Blogs breed spontaneity (?spelling?).

Tom.

Apologies for the lack of photographs (there are some earlier in this blog, but I don't have my digital camera here and am in the web cafes).