Saw her in the morning the day the bells refused to chime. She sits forty feet above the street in an Italian town, watching everything, carrying everyone’s secrets up there with her cigarette. She doesn’t need your pity. She’s someone to aspire to.
Saw her in the morning the day the bells refused to chime
Asked her where she was going and how she spent her time
And after a while she looked at me saying… Come with me
There’s a woman in a window
Who sits watching all the world
In her hand she holds a cigarette
Its smoke slowly unfurls
She can hear the many voices telling stories of their lives
She sits and smiles, so knowingly
Sees truth through storied lies
Walk in my shoes
Live with my blues
Then you will feel the way I do
This is my life
Life is a game
These are the words she gave to me

Single
She was standing on the platform with the wind in her hair, hoping against will that he’d come. And I never promised her any of it — not my soul, not a life of unbridled love. But great expectations have a way of outrunning what was ever actually said.
I never took you down this road
I never promised you my soul
I never offered you a life of unbridled love
I always thought you understood
And were you standing there in the station on the platform
With the wind in your hair
Did you stand ever so still — hope against will that he’d come
Oh and great expectations, tomorrow is bright not a cloud in the sky
And this is the time — the time of our lives
Yes this is the time — the time of our lives
I only know how to be myself
I’ve tried so hard to change but no
I just cannot go on like this
All I say and feel, just gets dismissed
The skies spin and spiral now, they sing with the light of the afterglow
As the cosmic dust rains on us
It seems that our limited time’s unjust

Single
I was strolling through an old English town, needing nothing. The air went cold. The sky turned red. There was a figure waiting by an old wooden shack. You don’t always know who’s talking to you until it’s too late.
I was strolling along in an old English town looking for nothing to do
I’d had a long day and just needed a break
To walk and maybe think of you
As I rounded a corner it seemed things had changed
The people looked different there too
The air seemed so cold and it felt kind of strange
The sky was a red not a blue
Trust in me
You will see
Come with me
You will see
Trust in me
Saw an old wooden shack just ahead on the square
With a figure who was waiting for me
Trust in me I’m always here, Trust in me my dear friend
Trust in me I’m always here — the devil on your shoulder
Trust in me

Single
Watching someone you love look for the way out. Feeling everything. Saying nothing. The complete exposure of lying there — emotionally stripped — while keeping every single feeling locked inside. ‘I show no emotion’ is the most emotional line I’ve ever written.
I watch you time on time
Looking for the way out
Looking for the door
It’s open all the time
I see your face
Watch you crying
I touch your tears
I scream my head inside —
But I show no emotion
I show no emotion
I show no emotion
I’m lying naked on the bed
I show no emotion
I show no emotion
That said
And if I were to live again
And if I were to choose again
I would never be in this position
Never live in these conditions
No, oh oh oh
So time will move on
A story over
Assignations may be gone but not forgotten
I see the road
I share its secrets
And they will echo
Forever in my soul

Single
Every fairy tale is really about something else. This one is about the moment you realise the tower you’ve been living in was one you built yourself.
Saw her in the morning the day the bells refused to chime. She sits forty feet above the street in an Italian town, watching everything, carrying everyone’s secrets up there with her cigarette. She doesn’t need your pity. She’s someone to aspire to.
Saw her in the morning the day the bells refused to chime
Asked her where she was going and how she spent her time
And after a while she looked at me saying… Come with me
There’s a woman in a window
Who sits watching all the world
In her hand she holds a cigarette
Its smoke slowly unfurls
She can hear the many voices telling stories of their lives
She sits and smiles, so knowingly
Sees truth through storied lies
Walk in my shoes
Live with my blues
Then you will feel the way I do
This is my life
Life is a game
These are the words she gave to me
She was standing on the platform with the wind in her hair, hoping against will that he’d come. And I never promised her any of it — not my soul, not a life of unbridled love. But great expectations have a way of outrunning what was ever actually said.
I never took you down this road
I never promised you my soul
I never offered you a life of unbridled love
I always thought you understood
And were you standing there in the station on the platform
With the wind in your hair
Did you stand ever so still — hope against will that he’d come
Oh and great expectations, tomorrow is bright not a cloud in the sky
And this is the time — the time of our lives
Yes this is the time — the time of our lives
I only know how to be myself
I’ve tried so hard to change but no
I just cannot go on like this
All I say and feel, just gets dismissed
The skies spin and spiral now, they sing with the light of the afterglow
As the cosmic dust rains on us
It seems that our limited time’s unjust
I was strolling through an old English town, needing nothing. The air went cold. The sky turned red. There was a figure waiting by an old wooden shack. You don’t always know who’s talking to you until it’s too late.
I was strolling along in an old English town looking for nothing to do
I’d had a long day and just needed a break
To walk and maybe think of you
As I rounded a corner it seemed things had changed
The people looked different there too
The air seemed so cold and it felt kind of strange
The sky was a red not a blue
Trust in me
You will see
Come with me
You will see
Trust in me
Saw an old wooden shack just ahead on the square
With a figure who was waiting for me
Trust in me I’m always here, Trust in me my dear friend
Trust in me I’m always here — the devil on your shoulder
Trust in me
Watching someone you love look for the way out. Feeling everything. Saying nothing. The complete exposure of lying there — emotionally stripped — while keeping every single feeling locked inside. ‘I show no emotion’ is the most emotional line I’ve ever written.
I watch you time on time
Looking for the way out
Looking for the door
It’s open all the time
I see your face
Watch you crying
I touch your tears
I scream my head inside —
But I show no emotion
I show no emotion
I show no emotion
I’m lying naked on the bed
I show no emotion
I show no emotion
That said
And if I were to live again
And if I were to choose again
I would never be in this position
Never live in these conditions
No, oh oh oh
So time will move on
A story over
Assignations may be gone but not forgotten
I see the road
I share its secrets
And they will echo
Forever in my soul
Every fairy tale is really about something else. This one is about the moment you realise the tower you’ve been living in was one you built yourself.
There’s a sense in the air in Manchester that exists nowhere else. I’ve been to Switzerland, New York, Tokyo, Thailand. And I always come back to this. Not because it’s the most beautiful city. It’s not. But because it’s mine. It’s always had its arms open.
It’s night I’m alone on an old city street
In the cold, slightly damp, yet I feel so complete
There’s a sense in the air it exists nowhere else
Only here in my home town, its arms always open to me
Joyce is a real person. She’ll know who she is if she ever hears this. I hope she does.
A Friday night. I walked through a door. She was standing in half light, looking over artwork. I was sold immediately — not just by how she looked, but by the whole composition of her.
It’s a Friday night I walk through the door
Stands in half light looking over artwork
If looks could cast to stone, she’s dressed to kill
So it’s a normal day — for her
Her hands are poised
Expressive fingers tapping on the rail
I’m sold and I want to stay
Take my hand
Watch me fly
The acronym around her throat
Shines brighter than the moon
See the girl
With the black All Saints tattoos
She needed to escape. Not from something specific — from everything. She went to Valletta. Those narrow streets, unchanged by centuries. In those streets she found something she’d forgotten she was looking for.
To the streets of Valletta there was nowhere better
She took with her a letter, took a plane the next day
In those long narrow streets not corrupted by time
She could merge with the history
Two people standing side by side. Close enough to touch. And yet. The tenderness is real — the years have shown it. But something — timing, choice, cowardice — means they cannot reach for it. They’ve thrown it all away.
We’ve waited years and years
The tenderness the years have shown
We’re standing side by side
Yet each of us alone
We’ve thrown it all away
I’d had a good day. Friends. Sun. Nothing much happened. And there on the TV was a woman from Bosnia with blood in her hair. And I lifted my drink. This song is about the distance between the world on the screen and the world outside the door.
Well I’d had a good day, I’d been talking with friends
In the sun as we lay getting a tan
And nothing much happened
Sometimes a song doesn’t need to be complicated. Sometimes it just needs to make you feel like you’re standing somewhere warm with the wind on your face.
Cologne. A Tuesday. Nothing special on the schedule and everything happening. I had a coffee and watched the world go by and wrote this on a napkin.
There are things in this world worth being angry about. Real anger. Righteous anger. The kind that doesn’t apologise for itself. This song doesn’t apologise either.
Lesley is walking. That’s enough. Sometimes the most powerful thing a song can do is simply bear witness to someone carrying on.
You spend decades trying to be what other people need you to be. And then one day you just stop. This is a song about that day. It’s a good day.
We live in an age of more words than ever and less being said than ever. Opinions at volume. Noise mistaken for substance. This song is about all of that.
We chain ourselves to things — habits, people, ideas — and then wonder why we can’t move. This song is about recognising the chain and deciding what to do about it.
The strange ritual of marking a moment on a clock and calling it new. As if anything actually resets. As if we aren’t carrying everything into the next year.
Count to three before you say the thing you’ll regret. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is the thing you choose not to do.
Some people carry something the rest of us can’t see. Something heavy and invisible. And they carry it every single day without anyone knowing. This song is for them.
I was talking about The Rolling Stones and it just came out. Off the cuff. Unrehearsed. The way all the best things do.
There are people in your life who stand between you and the worst of it. Who absorb the blows so you don’t have to. Without being asked. Without wanting recognition.
Heroes aren’t always obvious. Most of them are just people getting on with it quietly, without anyone noticing. The ones who deserve the songs most are the ones who’d never expect one.
We’ve forgotten how to talk to each other. Really talk. Not perform. Not broadcast. Not score points. Just talk. This song is an invitation to try again.
Every artist needs a Christmas song. Here’s mine. It doesn’t try to be anything other than exactly what it is — joyful, warm, and unashamedly festive.
New single · In production
New single · In production
New single · In production
Saw her in the morning the day the bells refused to chime. She sits forty feet above the street in an Italian town, watching everything, carrying everyone’s secrets up there with her cigarette. She doesn’t need your pity. She’s someone to aspire to.
Saw her in the morning the day the bells refused to chime
Asked her where she was going and how she spent her time
And after a while she looked at me saying… Come with me
There’s a woman in a window
Who sits watching all the world
In her hand she holds a cigarette
Its smoke slowly unfurls
She can hear the many voices telling stories of their lives
She sits and smiles, so knowingly
Sees truth through storied lies
Walk in my shoes
Live with my blues
Then you will feel the way I do
This is my life
Life is a game
These are the words she gave to me

Single
She was standing on the platform with the wind in her hair, hoping against will that he’d come. And I never promised her any of it — not my soul, not a life of unbridled love. But great expectations have a way of outrunning what was ever actually said.
I never took you down this road
I never promised you my soul
I never offered you a life of unbridled love
I always thought you understood
And were you standing there in the station on the platform
With the wind in your hair
Did you stand ever so still — hope against will that he’d come
Oh and great expectations, tomorrow is bright not a cloud in the sky
And this is the time — the time of our lives
Yes this is the time — the time of our lives
I only know how to be myself
I’ve tried so hard to change but no
I just cannot go on like this
All I say and feel, just gets dismissed
The skies spin and spiral now, they sing with the light of the afterglow
As the cosmic dust rains on us
It seems that our limited time’s unjust

Single
I was strolling through an old English town, needing nothing. The air went cold. The sky turned red. There was a figure waiting by an old wooden shack. You don’t always know who’s talking to you until it’s too late.
I was strolling along in an old English town looking for nothing to do
I’d had a long day and just needed a break
To walk and maybe think of you
As I rounded a corner it seemed things had changed
The people looked different there too
The air seemed so cold and it felt kind of strange
The sky was a red not a blue
Trust in me
You will see
Come with me
You will see
Trust in me
Saw an old wooden shack just ahead on the square
With a figure who was waiting for me
Trust in me I’m always here, Trust in me my dear friend
Trust in me I’m always here — the devil on your shoulder
Trust in me

Single
Watching someone you love look for the way out. Feeling everything. Saying nothing. The complete exposure of lying there — emotionally stripped — while keeping every single feeling locked inside. ‘I show no emotion’ is the most emotional line I’ve ever written.
I watch you time on time
Looking for the way out
Looking for the door
It’s open all the time
I see your face
Watch you crying
I touch your tears
I scream my head inside —
But I show no emotion
I show no emotion
I show no emotion
I’m lying naked on the bed
I show no emotion
I show no emotion
That said
And if I were to live again
And if I were to choose again
I would never be in this position
Never live in these conditions
No, oh oh oh
So time will move on
A story over
Assignations may be gone but not forgotten
I see the road
I share its secrets
And they will echo
Forever in my soul

Single
Every fairy tale is really about something else. This one is about the moment you realise the tower you’ve been living in was one you built yourself.

Single
There’s a sense in the air in Manchester that exists nowhere else. I’ve been to Switzerland, New York, Tokyo, Thailand. And I always come back to this. Not because it’s the most beautiful city. It’s not. But because it’s mine. It’s always had its arms open.
It’s night I’m alone on an old city street
In the cold, slightly damp, yet I feel so complete
There’s a sense in the air it exists nowhere else
Only here in my home town, its arms always open to me

Single
Joyce is a real person. She’ll know who she is if she ever hears this. I hope she does.

Single
A Friday night. I walked through a door. She was standing in half light, looking over artwork. I was sold immediately — not just by how she looked, but by the whole composition of her.
It’s a Friday night I walk through the door
Stands in half light looking over artwork
If looks could cast to stone, she’s dressed to kill
So it’s a normal day — for her
Her hands are poised
Expressive fingers tapping on the rail
I’m sold and I want to stay
Take my hand
Watch me fly
The acronym around her throat
Shines brighter than the moon
See the girl
With the black All Saints tattoos

Single
She needed to escape. Not from something specific — from everything. She went to Valletta. Those narrow streets, unchanged by centuries. In those streets she found something she’d forgotten she was looking for.
To the streets of Valletta there was nowhere better
She took with her a letter, took a plane the next day
In those long narrow streets not corrupted by time
She could merge with the history

Single
Two people standing side by side. Close enough to touch. And yet. The tenderness is real — the years have shown it. But something — timing, choice, cowardice — means they cannot reach for it. They’ve thrown it all away.
We’ve waited years and years
The tenderness the years have shown
We’re standing side by side
Yet each of us alone
We’ve thrown it all away

Single
I’d had a good day. Friends. Sun. Nothing much happened. And there on the TV was a woman from Bosnia with blood in her hair. And I lifted my drink. This song is about the distance between the world on the screen and the world outside the door.
Well I’d had a good day, I’d been talking with friends
In the sun as we lay getting a tan
And nothing much happened

Single
Sometimes a song doesn’t need to be complicated. Sometimes it just needs to make you feel like you’re standing somewhere warm with the wind on your face.
Cologne. A Tuesday. Nothing special on the schedule and everything happening. I had a coffee and watched the world go by and wrote this on a napkin.

Single
There are things in this world worth being angry about. Real anger. Righteous anger. The kind that doesn’t apologise for itself. This song doesn’t apologise either.

Single
Lesley is walking. That’s enough. Sometimes the most powerful thing a song can do is simply bear witness to someone carrying on.

Single
You spend decades trying to be what other people need you to be. And then one day you just stop. This is a song about that day. It’s a good day.
We live in an age of more words than ever and less being said than ever. Opinions at volume. Noise mistaken for substance. This song is about all of that.

Single
We chain ourselves to things — habits, people, ideas — and then wonder why we can’t move. This song is about recognising the chain and deciding what to do about it.

Single
The strange ritual of marking a moment on a clock and calling it new. As if anything actually resets. As if we aren’t carrying everything into the next year.

Single
Count to three before you say the thing you’ll regret. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is the thing you choose not to do.

Single
Some people carry something the rest of us can’t see. Something heavy and invisible. And they carry it every single day without anyone knowing. This song is for them.
I was talking about The Rolling Stones and it just came out. Off the cuff. Unrehearsed. The way all the best things do.

Single
There are people in your life who stand between you and the worst of it. Who absorb the blows so you don’t have to. Without being asked. Without wanting recognition.

Single
Heroes aren’t always obvious. Most of them are just people getting on with it quietly, without anyone noticing. The ones who deserve the songs most are the ones who’d never expect one.

Single
We’ve forgotten how to talk to each other. Really talk. Not perform. Not broadcast. Not score points. Just talk. This song is an invitation to try again.
Every artist needs a Christmas song. Here’s mine. It doesn’t try to be anything other than exactly what it is — joyful, warm, and unashamedly festive.