I have taken the liberty of posting a song lyric here on Authorsden.

It, being one, of over fifty odd lyrics and vocals that  I had written and recorded, which I had put on a removable 1TB hard drive, only then to have it stolen in Iceland of all places.

I had hoped to make contact with some Icelandic folk singers!

I had intended to burn the songs onto a cd, but as usual, life is full of good intentions.

On my return home, I was then, to discover that my hard drive in my desktop had disintegrated leaving me only a few scraps of vocals which I  had recorded in their initial draft form on a miniature pocket tape recorder.

 I am sorry that most are incomplete and the sound quality quite poor, but it’s all that’s left.

If this works, I will see if any, are in any way reproducible.

A Geordie Seafarer. A Lyrical composition. A cappella.

Morn’s star shone bright, young grass was green.
Mavis song its music ring.
Our lane was rimmed, with buttercups
and spring its voice did sing.

We stepped it out with youthful stride
what pleasures yet unseen.
Where hand in hand we walked with pride,
by millstream’s birchen dene.

I’ll walk ye down thro’ Cullercoats
‘til we are at Tyne’s door.
Its mouth it so agaping wide,
we’ll hear its breakers roar.

We’ll watch tall ships a sailing by
their flags bedecked so.
What wondrous tales o they could tell
many places that they go.

Would you be my friend, a lady friend?
should you be such friend to me?
I’ll tell you tales of tales on end
places sailed across the sea.

We brought back gum, we brought back spice,
we brought back emeralds too,
and all those ladies wait on us
to show those silks their due.

I cannot give you emeralds
of spices, I have few.
But if you will O wait for me
the love I have is true .

So walk we back thro’ Cullercoats
right there to Whitley Bay.

We’ll buy a cottage by the Sea
and love our times away.

Mor.