18 Comments

Thank you to your mum for her very salient comment. And, yes, I therefore clicked all kinds of orange links including the one that enabled me to read more about the colour orange. I didn't however find one that relayed your singing at Substack. Should I go on clicking some more?

Expand full comment

Aha! But in fact even an orange click can’t lead you to that as there is no video evidence, only a mere picture… I promise documentary footage of something else this Sunday!

Expand full comment

A joy! Thanks for sharing your songs with us ❤️

Expand full comment

And thanks for the guitar! You should definitely play it!! 💛

Expand full comment

… and we’re both Londoners.

Expand full comment

Lail come to San Francisco and see if you still want to be a hippie. Highlight of the summer was seeing Banana sing Hippie from Olema with a bunch of hippies from Olema,at Peter Rowan’s 80 th birthday show. Bring The family and Stoddard.

Expand full comment

Sounds like a highlight indeed! Here’s to one day in California!

Expand full comment

That is, 6 stanzas of 4 lines each, off the top of me head.

Now you make something of it - or not.

x

Expand full comment

Brilliantly done, and at what speed! X

Expand full comment

You asked, so… off the cuff

Expand full comment

So cool that you've made it to Substack's HQ! Hope you're enjoying NYC :)

Expand full comment

Thanks Leo, it’s been swell!

Expand full comment

The designer of the chair wants to claim the blame from the blameless baby!

Expand full comment

Ha! Truthfully I have only myself to blame. Myself and a threatening grape heading straight for the baby’s mouth…

Expand full comment

... but why would anyone want to go back from San Francisco to NYC? The lover's riposte could only be, 'Pack your bags and come out here to me.'

Expand full comment

Write the song!

Expand full comment

A Riposte, for Lail

Come back from San Francisco?

But babe, it’s all too pretty,

And there in New York City

I grow cold.

It’s true we have the fog here

And wind whips through the Gate

But on the Bay the sun glows,

Gold wisps on blue and slate.

We pay a price for beauty.

You need someone to love?

Come here, my girl, and partake.

Transcendence glides above.

New York is monumental.

The headlands of Marin

Are pacific, eternal,

And then just sea, and then…

This town borders forever,

Poe’s City by the Sea,

And City Lights and Jerry’s nights

And Jan who crooned with glee.

Hey now - I love you, baby,

But I need beauty too.

Come back to San Francisco.

You left your heart here too.

Expand full comment

Amazing! When you revive the salon this will have to feature… (but I’m afraid I’ll always be an NYC gal….)

Expand full comment